A New Kind of Bravery
by phoenixarchive
Summary: Facing darkspawn and almost certain death was one thing. Yet walking the roads of Ferelden without him would take a new kind of bravery entirely. Cous/Alistair; Cous/Teagan; Fergus/Alfstanna; Leliana/S.Gilmore; more pairings coming soon!
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: Bioware owns Dragon Age and all that's awesome about it. They also near enough own my life with the amount of hours I've spent playing on it._

x.x.x.x.x

Queen Anora Mac Tir of Ferelden rolled her shoulders against the knots that were tightly wound between her shoulder blades. The Blight was over, the Archdemon slain, but, as usual, there would be no rest for the wicked.

The Queen sighed, eyeing the mountain of paperwork (comprising of various requests for assistance, finance reports, damage reports and all other manner of thing that some lord or scribe felt needed to be put to paper) with annoyance. Meeting after meeting all day, only to arrive the in the late afternoon to this mess. She let her thoughts wander back over the events of the past few weeks. Had it really been that long already? The days and nights seemed to meld together in the worry and panic over Landmeets and Blights.

The Landsmeet. What a disaster – for Anora and her father anyway. Anora lost at the game of politics that day to a woman using the truth. The _truth_. Elissa Cousland presented the facts plainly and openly to the lords and ladies of the Bannorn and they followed her. Had Anora known that the nobles would unite under the truth then... well. She probably wouldn't have betrayed the Wardens that way if she knew her words would have little effect.

It was no wonder that Elissa declared Alistair king then – Anora's slyness and betrayals did not sit well with the Warden. It was a surprise to them all, however, when she announced that she would rule beside him. At the time Anora seethed, thinking that Elissa wanted the throne for herself and was using Alistair to get there. With the events of the past few days, however, Anora knew she made that decision out of love - if Alistair had to take the throne for Ferelden then the young Cousland wouldn't leave the last Theirin alone – because if Elissa truly wanted the throne she would have taken it regardless of Alistair's death.

The ex-Templar's death had had a profound effect on Elissa and her demeanour. Outwardly, Elissa still commanded respect and put on a suitable front for the public of Denerim, but none of them got close enough to see her eyes, full of pain and confusion. Anora had, and immediately felt sincere regret for everything she had put the Cousland through. When she asked Elissa what she intended to do when the Blight was over, the Hero's reply was barely a whisper. _"I don't know._"

Anora was snapped out of her reverie by a loud knock on her study door. "Enter!" she called.

"Your Majesty." Teryn Fergus Cousland entered the study and bowed low. "I apologise for the intrusion..."

"No need to apologise, I was just looking for an excuse to avoid..." she gestured at the pile of papers with a sigh, "..._this._"

Fergus' mouth twitched with a small smile. "With responsibility comes paperwork," he said ruefully. "I expect my desk at Highever will be much the same when I return."

Anora nodded sympathetically. "Do not forget to share it out, Teryn Cousland. Delegation is a wonderous thing - however we are short of hands at the moment so I've taken as much on as I can. But enough. You no doubt did not come here to discuss my paperwork mountain."

"Ah... quite, Your Majesty. I was wondering if perhaps you had seen my sister."

Anora paused. "No since yesterday at dinner. She is not in the city perhaps?"

Fergus shook her head. "The last person I can find who saw her was the dawn watch guards who saw her leaving the estate early this morning."

Anora frowned. "What of her companions. Or her mabari?"

"Leliana, Zevran, Wynne and Oghren are about the estate," Fergus replied. He'd been introduced to them by Elissa properly, and any friend of his sister's was a friend of his – hence why he remembered their names. "Oh, and the golem, Shale. Sten hasn't been seen since yesterday and Madoc was seen with her this morning."

There was another knock at the open door and both Fergus and Anora looked around to see the new arrival – a fair-haired, dark skinned elf. _The assassin_, Anora remembered.

"My dear Teryn," Zevran said with a bow. "Your Majesty," he added, with another bow. Anora could never work out whether he was being sarcastic or not – she tried to brush it off as just his accent or demeanour, but then with her track record she supposed the elf had his reasons to not like her. "I believe I have the answer to your question, Teryn Cousland."

"You've seen Elissa?"

He nodded solemnly and handed Fergus a folded letter bearing a wax seal with the Highever crest. Fergus hastily prised it open and quickly read the note. _'Sorry for not saying goodbye properly, but it was all a bit spur-of-the-moment. I'll be back soon. Much love, E.'_ "Eh? Back soon? Where has she gone?"

"Seheron, I believe."

"Seheron?" Anora stood up and walked over to the two men. "She's left Ferelden?"

"Not permanently," Fergus replied, reading over the letter again. "At least, she wrote that she'll be back soon. But... _Seheron_?"

"She left on the boat with Sten and Madoc this morning," Zevran supplied, handing Anora her own note. "She will come to no harm."

"Well then," Fergus said, folding the letter and tucking it inside his leather jerkin. "That's the answer to that question. My apologies for disturbing you, your Majesty."

"My door is always open for you, Teryn Cousland," Anora said. Fergus bowed, and Zevran hastily did the same before the two left the Queen's study.

Anora turned the parchment over in her hand and wondered what on earth Elissa would write to her for. She carefully snapped the wax seal and unfurled the letter. There was only one line.

'_Alistair had faith in you as a ruler. Don't let him down. E.'_

Anora sighed and folded the letter up again. She summoned her motivation and turned back to her paperwork – the quicker she got this done the quicker she could go back to doing something that was actually useful.

x.x.x

_x.x Some months later x.x_

_The Archdemon roared as pitched forward in exhaustion, the combination of arrows, magic and ballistae shots finally wearing it down. Elissa Cousland steeled herself and reached for her sword, stepping towards her death._

'No regrets,' _she thought._ 'For Ferelden. For Alistair. This is a small price to pay.'

"_Wait."_

_Elissa stopped at the sound of his voice. In hindsight she should have ignored him and kept going, but hindsight was always rife with such enlightening revelations._

"_I know you told Riordan that you would take the final blow, but let me. This is my duty."_

_Elissa turned towards him, sword still in her hand. "I can't let you do that," she said._

"_Why not?" he asked, stepping towards her. "This is my duty. If I'm going to be a king, I want to be a good king. And this right here is the best king I could be, my first and last act being to stop the Blight before it truly starts. No one could blame me for that, could they?"_

_Elissa bristled, her temper flaring. "That's not the only reason and you know it."_

_He smiled. "You're right. I know how I feel about you. I won't let you die, not when I can do something about it."_

"_Wait this is crazy!"_

"_Sanest thing I've ever done," he replied, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a desperate kiss. Elissa felt tears trailing down her cheeks, she wouldn't let him do this, she couldn't let him do this, but this was going to be her last kiss so she would make the most of it before..._

_Somehow he was faster than her. He pushed her backwards and she stumbled, nearly falling. She cursed, but by the time she regained her balance he was running towards the Archdemon._

"_No," she said on a breathy whisper. Her heart was hammering loudly in her ears. "No! __**Alistair!**__"_

_She started running but he was too far ahead. He sliced through the Archdemon's neck, showering the area with blood. The Archdemon's neck crashed to the ground and Elissa shielded her eyes at the cloud of rubble and dust that was scattered into the air._

_Alistair paused, altering his grip on the sword so he could drive it downwards. He paused, his eyes finding Elissa's across the Archdemon's twitching body and he smiled at his love as he took that final blow._

"No!" Elissa woke up with a start, causing Madoc to yelp in surprise. She took a few deep breaths and tried to master her grief again, dashing away her tears with the back of her hand. Madoc was whining in concern and she reached down to pet his head absently.

She was in her small cabin on a trading vessel bound for Denerim from Seheron. Her trip to the foreign island was an impulsive decision, but after a year of travelling all over Ferelden she knew there would be no where in her home nation she could go without seeing Alistair's shadow… except for perhaps Highever, but the terynir had its own ghosts she was unwilling to face.

Some might have called her a coward for running from her grief, but Elissa couldn't care less. She deserved the break, she told herself. She felt like she had been putting on a brave face and making the hard decisions for the sake of others ever since her family were murdered in Highever and by the Maker she was going to have some time for herself. Andraste only knew how much she needed to do some soul-searching after her relationship with Alistair and his (stupid, foolish and downright idiotic) sacrifice.

Seheron was unlike anything she had ever imagined and totally unlike the barbaric stories the Chantry perpetuated. She wouldn't say she enjoyed it wholeheartedly – it was difficult for the followers of the Qun to accept her status as a warrior and she had to defend her right to bear arms constantly; in hindsight, she perhaps ought to have avoided carrying her swords about the city in the interest of tact, but Sten seemed almost secretly proud of her defiance since he never once requested that she conform to their standards of women in the interest of appearances. Nevertheless, it had been an interesting experience and she learnt and saw much of a beautiful and (sexist opinions aside) cultured city.

In addition to that, the shear foreignness of Seheron was perfect for her to think about herself, free from outside influence or questions of duty. There was no Chantry influence in Seheron, so no idle Templars or chanter's boards to inadvertently remind her of her loss when she was least expecting it.

Two months later, Elissa bade Sten farewell, with the intention of facing her demons, and negotiated passage to Denerim on the trade ship the _Wave Dancer_. They were a month into the three month voyage and judging from the way the floor was rocking they were caught in some fairly rough weather.

Elissa pulled on her wax jacket she purchased for the voyage and made her way up to the deck. As a native of a port city, Elissa was well aware how a ship ran – her parents fostered both Elissa and Fergus to portside families every spring from the age of fourteen so they would learn of and respect the work that their people did.

"_Practical skills are important,"_ she remembered her father saying. _"You never know when you'll need them. Aside from which I won't have you raised to be spoiled – it's important you learn that with your privileges come responsibilities. It's our duty to protect these people since without them we're nothing."_

She was glad for her months with the fishing families. Although she was never allowed out onto the open seas, she developed enough boat experience to not get sea sick, even when the boat was pitching and yawing in the midst of a storm.

The rain smacked angrily against the solid wood deck and the wind was howling around them. Deckhands were clutching desperately at the rigging as they rolled up the mainsail. The masts creaked in the gale-like winds. Elissa sought out the captain through the driving rain and made a beeline for the quarterdeck, careful to avoid getting underfoot of the scrabbling sailors.

"What lovely weather we are having, captain!" she called when she found him near the wheel. She grinned. "A fine night to be sailing, for sure!"

"I couldn't agree more my lady!" the captain called back, grinning from ear to ear and appreciating her well-meaning sarcasm. He, like his crew, were drenched, but it would take more than rain to dampen the spirits of this captain. He loved his boat, respected the sea and treated his crew well. Elissa had a lot of time for Captain Skyhold.

"We're sailing towards the centre of the storm, I'm afraid," he said to her over the wind. "And I daren't venture further south towards it – the Amaranthine Ocean has a tendency for cyclones, storms which my _Dancer_ wouldn't be able to weather. We'll have to make a stop off at an Antivan port… probably Bastion, that's the nearest one from here I think."

"A wise decision, captain. I was fortunate indeed to find such a fine ship and captain in Seheron."

The captain laughed. "Such flattery my dear lady, as if my ego needed any encouragement! Now, get below deck before the wind sweeps you away. Maker knows you're thin enough to take flight in this wind. Off with you! I'll send a boy down as soon as we arrive in Bastion."

"My thanks, captain." Elissa made the dash back below deck, shaking her sopping coat and hair of excess water before she slipped back into her cabin. She smiled fondly when she saw that Madoc had quickly occupied her vacant cot and was sleeping soundly despite the rocking of the ship.

Elissa shut the door behind her and pulled her chest of belongings out from under the bed. When she left Denerim it carried only her bare essentials plus a few trinkets: her two swords, Starfang and the Keening Blade, her bow, Falon'Din's Reach, a pouch of sovereigns and gems and her trusty dragonbone splintmail. Now it was full to bursting with gifts, silks, spices and coin: she had not spent her time in Seheron idly, and had made a tidy sum of money as a mercenary and trader. She took as much of her raw spoils as she could, knowing they would make a tidy profit in Denerim , and sold the rest when she left so she could refill the Highever coffers that Howe had no doubt emptied.

Now, however, she had changed her mind. Oh, her spoils would still go to Highever, but not with her. The dream she relived of that fateful day… she had not had that dream for weeks. And now it had resurfaced, just as she was halfway home. She was not ready. Picking up a quill and parchment, Elissa laboured to write several letters and a list of instructions for a variety of people in Denerim. She could trust the captain of the merchant vessel to deliver her chest to the palace.

So it was when the shipped docked in Bastion, Elissa Cousland stayed on shore and waved the _Dancer_ and her crew farewell as they continued south to Denerim. Madoc barked a query and Elissa smiled down at her faithful Mabari.

"Just a bit longer, Madoc. There's a lot of Thedas to see after all. Plus, if a mutual friend of ours is to be believed, Antiva City is especially beautiful at this time of year." Madoc barked happily in response.

Then, with only her bare essentials on her back and her dog at her side, Elissa Cousland headed north to Antiva. She let out a sigh as they left the port town of Bastion and hit the open road.

"Fergus isn't going to forgive me for this stunt," she said to Madoc.

The mabari, ever the observant one, whimpered in sympathy.

x.x.x

_Part Two to come soon, I hope! This is just a setting-the-scene, prologue-esque chapter: I'm not going to detail her journey alone, because that's boring lol. She'll be back in Ferelden for the drama and romance soon enough :D_

_A question for you: if you could have any NPC in DA:O (Base and/or Awakening) as a romance option, who would he/she be? :D_


	2. Chapter 1: Rialto

_Shout out to reviewers and alert-adders – much love to you all, I really appreciate the support!_

_Big shout out to __**Erynnar**__and her epic DA:O saga _**'Soulmates'** _– a must read for Alistair and Zev fans alike! ^___^And for Fergus fans out there I'd totally recommend _'**Of Time Spent in the Wilds'** _by __**slyjinks **__– deliciously long chapters and a fantastic story._

_I think it's safe to say while the DA:O fandom is much smaller than Bleach or FFVII, they're a lot more dedicated and supportive – quality over quantity no? _

x.x.x.x.x

_Nearly three months later_

Leliana was sat atop the carriage next to the driver. She knew it was unladylike and the rushing air was probably ruining her hair but the scenery on the road to Highever was too pretty to just glimpse at from the carriage window. The city spanned the width of an impressive headland, the castle at the top at its centre, with sea fortifications built up from the jagged cliff-side to shield the keep. The roads and streets wound down from the main square outside the castle to the docks which were in the headland's shadow.

Coves and beaches littered the coastland and Leliana felt a twinge of envy – Elissa must have had a fantastic childhood here. Then she felt a pang of longing since she missed the Hero of Ferelden. It was because of her she had to bring some uneasy tidings to the elder of the Cousland siblings.

Leliana hopped down from her seat when the carriage stopped by the castle gates. A young page listened to her request for an audience with the Teryn and vanished into the castle. While she waited, a familiar voice with a distinctive accent drifted from the shadows.

"My, my, the windswept look does become you, my dear Leliana. You should style it like that more often."

Leliana felt a small smile tug at her lips, even though she knew she was being mocked somewhat. "I'll bear that in mind. Will you show yourself, or are you intent on skulking about as normal?"

The darkness seemed to shimmer by the castle steps and Zevran stepped from the shadow of the stone walls. "Me? Skulk? I prefer the term _slink_ if you must put a name to my stealth. Much less vulgar." He stepped towards the Bard, his usual smirk on his features. "I assume this is not a social call?"

"Not entirely," Leliana admitted, "though I am not able to return to Haven until the spring – and it is much warmer here than in Denerim. No, I bring news. And a delivery."

"So our beautiful bard has had to resort to running errands for coin? No longer able to sing for your supper?"

Leliana thwacked Zevran's upper arm, feeling some smug satisfaction as the assassin winced sincerely and rubbed the area of the onslaught. "This is not just _any_ errand, Zevran. I bring word of Elissa."

Zevran met Leliana's gaze squarely, his expression grim. "It is not good news, is it?

Leliana rolled her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. She sent a letter and a stack of belongings, so she's not dead but…" She sighed and shook her head. "She hasn't returned. Whether she is on her way, I do not know - I've not read the letter. It is addressed to the Teryn, after all."

Zevran smirked, never one to miss an opportunity to tease. "Well, aren't you the well-behaved Chantry sister now? You curbed your curiosity and didn't even _peek_?"

Leliana thumped Zevran's arm again, scowling. "It's from Elissa! I'd never invade her privacy."

"Oh, more likely than not, you didn't have access to a signet ring with the appropriate coat of arms to replace the seal." Zevran dodged the bard's third swipe and laughed at her expression, since her scowl and averted eyes confirmed his guess to be true.

The pedestrian's gate to the castle swung open and Fergus Cousland strode out. "Leliana!" he said with a smile. He bowed to the bard, gracefully taking one of her hands and lightly kissing her knuckles. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Leliana mastered her composure and attempted to hold back a blush. Zevran's smirk widened but she ignored him – she knew the Teryn's good looks and amenable nature had as much effect on the Antivan as her. "I bring word from Denerim, your Grace," she said, handing over Elissa's letter.

Fergus paused before taking the thick parchment from her and hesitantly broke the wax seal with the Highever coat of arms imprinted on it. "Where did you get this?" he asked before unfolding the note.

"I met the captain of the merchant vessel the _Wave Dancer_. He had just arrived in Denerim from Seheron and was looking for the way to the palace. It seems Elissa entrusted him with the chests I've got with me in the carriage – with instructions to deliver them to then palace and ensure they were delivered to Highever."

Fergus frowned. "But she has not returned."

"Unfortunately not, your Grace."

The Teryn huffed in mild annoyance and his eyes dropped to the note. Elissa's flowing handwriting was somewhat shaky – so she wrote it in a rush again. One of his eyebrows quirked in surprise as he read over the hasty inventory of belongings she had sent.

"It seems my sister has acquired my father's eye for finery in her travels," Fergus said. "Though I'm not impressed at her intentions to gallivant across Thedas." The teryn gestured to a couple of nearby servants and instructed them to unload the carriage; a third he sent to inform the seneschal to prepare a room for Leliana and have her belongings taken to her quarters. He invited Leliana and Zevran to follow him to the study, where he handed the note over to the rogues for their perusal.

"Hmm…" Zevran said once he finished reading. "While I have faith in our dear Warden's abilities, her stop-off in Antiva is a tad concerning. The contract may still stand should the Masters not have the wits to check on their employers' well-being." He handed the letter Leliana, whose fingers were itching to read Elissa's words. 

Fergus' brow knotted in concern as he set glasses onto the table and uncorked a bottle of red. "That is a worry, but aside from sending some poor sod off on a wild goose chase to find her, I don't know what I can do." His face fell, and he set down the bottle with a _thud_. "Maker. She's going to get herself killed, isn't she?"

"No, she won't." Leliana and Zevran looked at each other in surprise when they realised they'd spoken together. Zevran nodded at the bard, as if to say _you're better at the reassuring speeches malarkey – you say it._

"No, she won't," Leliana repeated, boldly reaching out to touch Fergus' shoulder in a comforting gesture. Zevran took the wine bottle from the Teryn's hand and proceeded to pour for all of them. "She's faced an Archdemon, survived Ostagar and more. She's won against higher odds than this. And by now, half of Thedas will know her name, not including all the Grey Wardens. She'll have sense enough to seek shelter at the Grey Warden base wherever she goes." Leliana gave Zevran a warning glare when the assassin cocked an eyebrow in a classic "Oh really?" expression. "As for the Crows, they're not stupid," the bard continued. "They will know of their employers' fates by now, and won't attempt to cash in on void contract."

Fergus seemed to regain some heart at the Orlesian's small speech, releasing the tension in his face with a small sigh and straightening his sagging shoulders. "You're… you're right, Leliana. I shouldn't be so susceptible to despair. It's just… difficult to understand why she's so intent on running like this. She always used to think things through before acting and now..." Fergus waved his hands in the air helplessly. "She's just suddenly become rash and impulsive!"

"Grief makes you do strange things," Zevran said quietly, proffering the glass of wine. Fergus took it with a small smile of thanks and hastily gulped some of it down – a waste of fine wine, but he needed to steel his nerves which were frayed enough as it was.

The three of them sat in companionable silence for a while, all their thoughts trained on one person – one person who was far away and not particularly appreciating the heat of Antiva...

x.x.x

_I need some new gear,_ Elissa thought furiously, _before I melt entirely!_

Elissa wiped her face of sweat and grimaced in disgust. While not as hot or humid as Seheron, Elissa had sold her fair-weather gear in Seheron, preparing for months at sea and her arrival to a Ferelden winter. On top of that, she didn't often wear her armour in Seheron unless she was out on one of her rare mercenary jobs and even then it was light leather not... _splintmail_.

"Ugh," Elissa muttered under her breath, feeling a trickle of sweat wind down the back of her neck. "How are you holding out boy?" she asked Madoc. The mabari looked up at her and took a pause from his heavy panting to give a brief but enthusiastic bark.

"Good to know... still, we'll find an inn and cool off shall we? It'll be getting dark soon, and here's as good a place as any to stop." Elissa could see a town looming on the road ahead, and judging from her map it was the port town of Rialto.

Elissa navigated her way through the town, and using her out-of-practice Antivan (though the market stall owner was an amiable and patient old lady who complimented Elissa on her accent, no doubt due to the Cousland's extra lessons with Oriana) she was directed to an inn near the city centre. "It's probably the cleanest around," the stall owner had said.

The Queen's Steel was a reasonable enough place, and her night there was uneventful. Madoc kept his ears pricked while he dozed, however, probably feeling her slight unease – since arriving in Rialto she had felt like she was being watched. She hoped it was paranoia, but when she was accosted by a messenger boy while she was in the market, she knew her instincts were true.

The message was from the Crows, which she supposed she should have expected. Still, she made them wait while she sold her trusty dragonbone splintmail and bought some dragonwing studded leather armour. It was an odd but welcome sensation wearing leather after months of fighting in plate or splintmail.

Strapping her swords and bow to her back (and ignoring the disapproving glances she got from various Antivan citizens – clearly Oriana's stories about the "softer women" in Antivan were true) she headed to the backroom of the Three Arrows Tavern off the docks.

"Ahh, Warden. You did get my message. I was beginning to think that the boy had run off with his coin."

Elissa inclined her head in acknowledgement of her host. "Master Ignacio. It is good to see you again."

The old Master chuckled. "Truly? I am surprised you would say so and sound so sincere when your eyes are scouring the room and your body tense and ready to strike should the need arise."

"Forgive me if I'm a little wary, but your order doesn't exactly inspire trust."

"I can assure you, Warden, that we would not resort to openly inviting our marks to their deaths. I merely wished to talk."

"If it involves scrolls and chests, I am a little short handed to be running errands for you, Master Ignacio," Elissa said. "And my finances are not so desperate as to require resorting to such lengths anyway."

"You misunderstand again - I am not here for business," Ignacio said, shaking his head. "This is a personal matter."

Elissa was still wary. "I am listening."

"It has come to my attention that you are of a noble house. House Cousland, no less."

"Your information is correct," Elissa admitted, "though, as a Grey Warden my ties with my family are purely personal – I have no political sway as a Cousland anymore."

Ignacio gave a small laugh. "You underestimate yourself. For was it not your political sway as a Cousland that aided you at the Ferelden Landsmeet? Was it not your station that allowed the nobles to accept your declaration that you would rule alongside the Theirin heir?"

Elissa spluttered – she was unware the Crows had informants able to access the Landsmeet chamber. "That... it... My actions at the Landsmeet were dictated entirely by necessity – the Blight was my concern, not my political gain. As for Alistair... that was a personal matter." Elissa flushed.

"Again, we have drifted off topic. You are jumping to conclusions when it is a lot simpler than that." Ignacio poured two goblets of wine and offered one to Elissa, who took it and only made a show of drinking. "Your brother. He is married to Oriana of house Sennabec?"

"He... yes. Yes he was."

"Was?"

"You are no doubt aware of the... circumstances that befell House Cousland before the battle at Ostagar."

"On the contrary," Ignacio admitted, "We had no agents or contacts in Highever. The marriage alliance between Sennabec and Cousland was peppered with conditions, and that was one."

"So... Sennabec is a Crow house?" Elissa asked. She was confused, and mildly cross with herself, realising she knew very little of her sister-in-law and the politics surrounding her brother's marriage.

"No, but they have close ties with most of the houses. What... happened to House Cousland?"

Elissa swallowed, and briefly recounted the events of that night, the betrayal of Arl Howe and the deaths of her family members. Ignacio's face seemed to sag as she told the story.

"It is unfortunate indeed. Arl Howe must have been aware that Highever was a blind spot for the Crows. Had we known of this... you may have missed out on your vengeance. The Crows are not kind to those who harm our own."

"But... you just said Sennabec was not a Crow house..."

"No, but they have close ties." Ignacio sighed. "The former Duchess Sennabec was my sister – the current Duke my nephew. Oriana was my niece. Beltran will be most upset to hear of his sister's death so late."

"I... am sorry, Master Ignacio." This information was unbelievable. "It has been difficult for my brother. He cared for Oriana deeply, as did my parents. She was truly part of the family."

"And you, Warden," Ignacio said. "What did you think of Oriana?"

Elissa felt a half-smile tug at the corner of her mouth. "She was a fantastic mother for Oren. A perfect hostess and entertainer and a fine singer. She didn't approve of my 'swordplay', often declaring that in Antiva a woman in battle would be unthinkable." Elissa laughed lightly as she remembered one of those last conversations. "Fergus mentioned he always heard that Antivan women were dangerous and she replied 'with kindness and poison only, dear husband.'" They both shared a laugh at that and Elissa sighed. "It shames me now to think that I knew very little about her, but at the time all the mattered was she was good to my brother."

"Do not worry yourself over such things, Warden, what is done is done, and you could not have known what would happen." Ignacio sighed. "However, now we have established that, though marriage, you are tied to the Crows, may I be the first to apologise on behalf of the Masters for the attempt on your life."

Elissa grinned. "Apology accepted – though I would ask a favour if I may?"

"If it is within my power, I will attempt to do as you ask."

"You may or may not recall I had a companion who bore an uncanny resemblance to a Crow assassin."

Ignacio smirked. "I may recall such a thing, yes."

"You said to him that he was dead to you... would it be possible to make that – official?"

Ignacio pondered the question. "I believe I could do that, yes. But tell him that it would be in his interests not to visit Antiva for some time – the paperwork can take a while to circulate."

x.x.x

_So still a bit of a slow start, still no real action but some hopefully interesting revelations :)_ _Hopefully I'll manage to pick the pace up in part three – though there might be a bit of time-skipping to get there heh._


	3. Chapter 2: Minrathous

_Sorry for the delay, but I'm attempting to write my dissertation at the same time, heh, so updates will be sporadic, as and when I can :) This is a long chapter mind (hopefully not too long though!) so I hope that makes up for it :)_

_If you have the time to spare, please review :D They make me happy. Thanks to those of you that have reviewed and those who have alerted and/or faved :D_

x.x.x.x.x

_A number of months and many miles later_

The coastal roads towards Minrathous were rough, no doubt because most of the traders that travelled between the capital and the port towns went by sea. Only those on foot or horseback used these tracks – a carriage ride would be painfully bumpy, not to mention the way this particular road skirted close to the cliff's edge.

Elissa was enjoying the view of the sea from the high roads and left the track for a while to stand at the tip of a headland. The sky was a clear blue, the spring sun high in the sky and its rays scattering over the blue of the sea. In the distance Elissa could see the large island that was Seheron – she laughed to herself, realising she's near enough come full circle. She thought of Sten and sighed – the qunari would probably have a word or two to say about her right now, questioning her reasons and purpose. Or possibly he wouldn't say anything: he didn't question her when she joined him on the voyage to Seheron after all.

Elissa looked northwards along the coastline – she could see the capital from here, perhaps a few hours away. She would be there by early evening at the latest. She was in awe at the size of the place already, even at this distance – she could see many spires and towers reaching towards the sky and a cluster of ships in the docks.

"Come on Madoc. Let's get going – maybe we'll get there before the markets close so I can get a bone for you." The mabari barked happily and jumped around in a circle as Elissa hopped down the grassy verge back onto the stony track.

They were back on the road for a couple of hours, the road skirting around a clump of woodland, when Madoc stopped in his tracks and let out a small growl. Elissa froze, her hands going to her swords on her back. The silence from the trees was unsettling, but she had to say for an ambush this wasn't the best place: the road was flanked by the seaside cliffs after all. There was only one way to jump onto the road.

She spotted something shining a few metres in front of her and she motioned Madoc to stay. She crouched to the road and smirked at the tripwire in front of her, quietly smug that she spotted it. She usually traipsed right through them, much to Leliana's exasperation. She reached for her knife at her waist and gently cut the wire, letting the ends fall the ground and rendering the trap useless.

Elissa quietly continued along the road, hoping that the avoidance of the trap meant she would pass the bandits notice.

No such luck.

There was a guttural shout, something which Elissa had guessed meant "To arms!" in Arcanum given the number of times she had heard it in the past few weeks. (Elissa's knowledge of the Tevinter language was even less than basic - indiscretions of former-Regents aside, Ferelden had little to do with the Imperium nowadays and Elissa was tutored in languages that would most likely benefit Highever or Ferelden, namely Orlesian and Nevarran for trade purposes plus a touch of Antivan – just in case.)

"Maker's mercy," Elissa swore. "Do Tevinters get a kick out of attacking lone women or something?" She sighed in resignation, pulling her swords off her back as she was surrounded by half a dozen armed men.

A seventh man stepped from the shade of the forest, obviously their leading judging from the mildly better gear he was equipped with compared to his companions. He said something quickly in Arcanum and looked expectantly at Elissa. She looked back with a suitably confused face and shrugged. "I have no idea what you just said."

The man laughed and repeated something else incomprehensible. Elissa sighed. "Look, can I just go please? I'd rather not arrive in Minrathous covered in blood if it's all the same to you."

The man made no attempt to decipher her tone of voice and instead beckoned with one hand. "_Money_," he said in Antivan.

Ah, so he spoke some Antivan then, did he? Nevertheless, Elissa shook her head, hoping that they'd just let her past if they thought she didn't understand them. "I think not."

The man barked something in Arcanum again and Elissa just rolled her eyes. "You know, you'll never be half the man your mother was. Such a shame," she said. It was childish and completely wasted, but she felt that she needed to make some effort to respond, even if they had no clue what it was.

It appeared however that his patience had run out, and he gestured to his archers to draw their bows.

"Oh please," Elissa scoffed, "if you want to threaten someone do it properly with a dagger or something." The archers, however, we not skilled at holding their stance and one of them let his hand slip, the arrow whistling through the air. It thumped limply against her leather shoulder guard and clattered to the floor. She gave the offending archer her iciest glare and spun the sword in her offhand threateningly. "Let me past, boy," she said, stepping towards the young man. "I don't want to kill you but I will if I have to."

The young man recoiled in confusion, not understanding her words by fully comprehending her tone. His eyes darted towards the leader, seeking instruction, support. Elissa turned, following the lad's gaze and directing her intimidation at the band's leader.

"_Move_," she growled in Antivan. "_Or I will have to kill you._"

The leader he laughed raucously and shouted something in Arcanum... and judging from the way the other men jumped to attention it was probably "attack" or "get her."

Elissa ducked the poorly aimed arrows and whistled her command to Madoc. The mabari leapt at an approaching assailant, pinning him to the floor and savagely tearing at his throat. Elissa lunged forward, stabbing the bandit leader in the neck with one sword and severed his head with the other.

Without their leader the battle went quickly downhill for the bandits until out of the seven only two archers remained, two young lads, probably not long turned eighteen. They exchanged frightened looks with each other, and Elissa surmised they were close friends, mayhap even brothers or cousins judging from the similar features. She lowered her swords and gestured Madoc to stay, looking at the boys sadly.

She jerked her head towards the forest and the lads got her message. _Get out of here._ They hurried off into the shade of the trees and vanished. Elissa looked down at Madoc, who was covered in blood, and sighed, realising she wasn't much cleaner.

"Come on," she said, "let's find a river or something. We can't wander into Minrathous looking like this."

Madoc whined in protest but followed his mistress obediently. Perhaps there would be a way out of this impromptu bath...

x.x.x

_Dear Fergus,_

_I do hope my letters are getting to you at Highever (or Denerim, whichever) – I'd hate for you to be under the impression that I'm not thinking of you - because I am! Lots. In between episodes of being lost that is. (That was a __**joke**__ – I've not been getting lost much. Master Aldous managed to successfully drill map-reading into my head after all.)_

_I arrived in Ayesleigh yesterday evening. The Rivaini people are a bit strange to say the least, but they're hospitable. Some seemed to take offence at my weaponry at first, but when I explained (with great difficulty: there aren't many who speak Ferelden up here and my Antivan, though improved from the journey, still isn't brilliant) that I was a Grey Warden their reservations quickly vanished. They hold Wardens in high esteem here – there's a massive mural to those that fell at the battle of Ayesleigh in the Fourth Blight, carved into the side of a rockface in one of the coves. There's also a big statue of Garahel at the town's centre. It's given me some ideas for what to do for the Ferelden wardens that fell during our Blight – though naturally it won't need to be nearly as large as this._

_I'm heading towards Arlathan forest en route to Minrathous as soon as I find a ship heading to Denerim to take this missive to you. No doubt once you get it I'll almost be at the capital! I've planned a vague route now (you'll be pleased to know) – once I'm out of the forest I'll be taking the coastal roads to Minrathous, then the Highway down to the passes up to Weisshaupt. From Weisshaupt... I don't know. I may be there for a while, it depends on the welcome I get from my fellow Wardens._

_I hope all things are well at Highever and that the politics of Ferelden aren't driving you insane._

_Much love_

_Elissa._

Fergus Cousland rolled up the latest missive from Elissa and sighed. He must have read it about five times since the messenger handed it to him scant hours ago.

There was a knock at the study door and Fergus sighed again, sitting upright in his chair and removing his feet from where they were propped on the desk. "Enter," he called.

The door creaked open and Zevran popped his head around the door. "From the look on your face, my dear Teryn, you could do with a drop of this." Zevran brandished the bottle of wine hopefully. "A warm-up before dinner perhaps?"

Fergus laughed and reached over to the cabinet behind him for the glasses. "I like the way you think, my friend." Zevran deftly popped the cork with one of his daggers and poured into the waiting glasses. Fergus, glass of wine in hand, leant back in his chair and propped his feet back up on his desk.

Zevran sank back into the cushioned chair on opposite side of the desk and sighed. "So, the nobles in Denerim have been reaping the rewards of our illustrious Majesty's trade agreements with Orlais."

"Ah, it ought to come as a surprise how quick the promise of coin can chase away past prejudices." Fergus smirked. "It doesn't."

"Yet they aren't so quick to jump upon Anora's visions for the Alienage."

"Again, unsurprising. But what is Anora proposing?"

"Nothing too outlandish, just wanting to invest in a rebuild and proper drainage to improve hygiene and living. It appears she was impressed with the Highever set up when she last visited. Oh, and she wishes to have an elven representative at court."

"Ah. Therein lays the problem, no doubt."

"Indeed. Some of the more pragmatic banns – Bryland, Teagan and Alfstanna in particular – and both Arl Eamon and Arl Wulff are open to the idea. Teagan even proposed removing the ridiculous weapons ban - I suppose after fighting alongside Alienage elves at the siege he feels they've earned it. I believe that is Anora's reasoning as well – but naturally there is resistance."

"From who?"

"The usual suspects. Loren, Ceorlic and Franderel, amongst others with questionable characters. That prissy one with the odd face from Amaranthine – Esmerelle I think her name was. Nevertheless, expect it to come up as a point of contention at the next Landsmeet."

"Oh... fantastic," Fergus said sarcastically. He leant forward to refill their glasses. "Any word of Amaranthine?"

"They're still getting used to the idea of Wardens owning the place but no noble is yet foolish enough to question the Wardens presence so soon after the Blight. The contingent of Wardens from Orlais seem sound enough – led by a rather serious fellow called Kristoff – but they mainly keep to themselves, patrolling the lands and picking off darkspawn stragglers. The new seneschal is managing the day-to-day running, much to the relief of the locals since he is Ferelden born. He's got his work cut out for him, mind, clearing up the mess Howe made of it in his neglect."

"Well, if he concentrated on his arling instead of furthering himself I've no doubt Amaranthine would have flourished," Fergus muttered darkly. "Anything else?"

"Only the usual disgruntled mumblings that the positions of Arl of Denerim and Teryn of Gwaren are still vacant. Anora dismisses those complaints, insisting that succession disputes can wait until adequate repairs are completed, insisting that the seneschals in both districts are managing them admirably." Zevran smiled. "I believe Anora was wanting to grant the terynir to your sister. She was asking after her and wanting to know when she will return."

Fergus sighed and handed Zevran the latest note from Elissa. "Anora's intentions are good but it wouldn't be wise – having both terynirs under the rule of a Cousland will only breed suspicion and contempt in the Bannorn. On top of that, Elissa is a Grey Warden and the Wardens already have Amaranthine – no, it would be best if the terynir was gifted to a general of some renown."

"Your darling sister is the only general of renown around."

"If she hears you calling her darling you're for it, you know that?"

Zevran laughed and laid the letter on the desk. "I not only know it – I count on it. Though it appears it will be some time before she's about to chastise me for pet names," he added, waving a hand at the letter.

"Well... quite." Fergus sighed for the umpteenth time that afternoon. "I worry. I know I shouldn't – she's more than capable, she always has been but it's not just about her wellbeing, physical or otherwise. After all that's happened... the memories I have here are painful but that's only because I remember what I've lost. She was here when Howe went on his mad rampage, she _saw_ it all... I've just got this niggling feeling that she might not ever come home – that she might not feel able to ever come home."

Zevran reached over the table to refill Fergus' glass. "She will come home. She does miss this place. Did Leliana tell you of when we went to Soldier's Peak?"

Fergus racked his brain. "I don't believe she did."

"Ah, well, I'll not ruin a story of haunted castles and demons that should only be told with a bard's silver tongue, but I will mention something of the journey up there." Zevran put his fingers together and regarded the teryn of Highever with golden eyes. "Soldier's Peak is in the mountains east of here, and on the way up towards the mountain trails we came to a fork in the road. It was getting dark, so we camped in a glade not far from the road. After a while, Elissa must have gone for a walk because Leliana noted that she was missing.

"I volunteered to search for her and found her back at the roadside looking wistfully westwards up the road to Elstran's Gorge. Had she not been so devoted to her duty I think she would have gone home there and then you know – she said "It would be so easy – the main road to Highever is just up that pass," and then wandered back to camp." Zevran chuckled at the memory. "I had no idea what she was on about - the name "Highever" meant nothing to me at the time and it wasn't until I was on watch with Alistair later than I discovered the importance of the place.

"She will return. I know she will. She said she'd be back, and she's never let me down before."

Fergus turned the letter towards him again and looked over his sister's flowing script. "I'm tempted to send a missive to Weisshaupt, but there's a substantial risk that it would either arrive before she did or after she left. Aside from that there's nothing for me to say – nothing that can be committed to paper, anyhow." Zevran raised an inquiring eyebrow and Fergus grinned. "Don't look at me like you don't already know, because I know you do."

"Oh, I know many things, my dear Teryn – though if we are thinking about the same thing then I would agree that is information meant to be passed on personally..."

x.x.x

Minrathous was **huge**.

There was no other word for it. Elissa had always though Denerim to be fairly impressive but this was entirely different. Instead of homely and richly decorated estates, nobles in these parts appeared to outwardly mock each other with their individual towers. She half expected the Grey Wardens to have a tower at this rate; thankfully they had a more practical compound and barracks.

She paused, stretching her main sword arm and wincing at the tightness in her shoulder before approaching the guards at the compound gates, looking up at the Grey Warden banners that fluttered in the sea breeze. "Uh..." she started. "Do either of you speak Ferelden?"

One of the guards looked confused but the other smiled. "You're a long way from home, my lady. Can I help you?"

"I was wondering if I might be able to impose on your hospitality. As a fellow Grey Warden, that is."

"A Grey Warden? From Ferelden? Then..." The guard's eyes widened and he muttered something in Arcanum, probably an exclamation to the Maker of some kind. "You're... the last Warden of Ferelden, yes?"

"Elissa Cousland, yes," Elissa said. She felt sheepish under the man's awe-inspired gaze. "I know it's rude of me to expect shelter but I can't speak a word of Arcanum so I –"

"Sister, it is an honour to meet you," the guard said. "I'll send Brennan to inform the Senior Warden of your arrival." The guard gabbled the news to his companion who nearly dropped his pike in surprise before vanishing into the compound.

Some time later, after chatting for sometime with the guard (his name was Mikahel, he Joined about four years ago after being recruited in Nevarra, then transferred to Minrathous with the Senior Warden about six months ago) Elissa was greeted by an elven woman wearing a set of studded leather armour with a thick studded belt with the Warden Commander crest as a buckle.

"Sister," the woman said, her Ferelden carrying a heavy Orlesian accent. "I am Namina, Senior Warden of Minrathous. I bid you welcome to our barracks Sister and hope you enjoy your time here." She nodded to the guards to carry on and invited Elissa to walk with her.

"The First Warden at Weisshaupt mentioned you were travelling, Sister, but I daren't hope you'd head this far north."

Elissa smiled. "The stories I have heard of Minrathous piqued my curiosity. Though now I'm more curious – the First Warden is aware of me? And my travels?"

Namina laughed. "You helped end a _Blight_ – how could he not be aware? He sent missives to all bases I believe, informing them of you and your travels – information he received from your Queen, so I'm told." Namina opened the door to the guest quarters and ushered Elissa (Madoc at her heels) inside.

"Are you injured?" Namina asked. She'd noticed that Elissa's right arm was swathed in bandages under her leather armour. Elissa shook her head.

"No, not injured – it's for support more than anything." Namina raised an eyebrow, detecting the first statement as true but the second as false – still, she didn't press the issue.

"Make yourself comfortable – you've arrived just in time for dinner. I eat with the others in the mess hall – I don't like to stand on ceremony - but if you prefer, I could have a meal sent to your room for you?"

"No, no – I'd be honoured to join my brothers and sisters in the hall," Elissa said with a smile. "Though if you could have something sent up for my mabari so he is out of the way I would greatly appreciate it."

Elissa warmed to Namina and her down-to-earth attitude. She told Elissa of the upset the Archdemon dreams had caused her and the other Wardens, and the frustrations of the contingents unable to cross the border because of politics. Elissa learnt that there were around thirty Wardens stationed here in Minrathous, a seemingly small contingent for such a large city, but there main remit was not the city itself but the High Reaches mountains to the northwest, where old dwarven thaigs acted as shelter for darkspawn.

Over dinner, Elissa sat with and spoke with any who could speak Ferelden: namely Namina, her second-in-command Faelan (a heavy built Tevinter warrior), Arrim and Alarra (elven twins from the Free Marches) Rache, (a mage from the Tevinter's Circle) and Mikahel.

Thankfully none of her dinner companions made her feel uncomfortable as a result of her celebrity status – and they continued talking over wine long after dinner was cleared. Conversation spanned a number of topics, and Elissa learnt a lot about Tevinter and the Warden system.

"If I may be so bold, Namina," Elissa asked, a thought suddenly occurring to her, "You must meet a lot of resistance with the locals. An elf in your station in Tevinter... I wouldn't have thought such an appointment would go down particularly well."

Namina and Faelan both laughed. "You would be right, my friend, hence my appointment here in Minrathous. The slavery in Tevinter has to stop – and while the Grey Wardens can't be seen to be influencing politics here like they do in the Anderfels, Warden Commander Kalem will do whatever he can to make the nobles feel uncomfortable." Namina grinned. "It's a knack of his. And Faelan's a big enough lad to deter any trouble, aren't you Fae?"

Faelan's grin could only be described as wolfish. "If there were any trouble you'd only leave me with scraps anyway. Appearances aren't everything."

"There is no slavery in Ferelden, is there?" asked Alarra. She and her brother both had bright blue eyes and fiery red hair – both with wirey frames which no doubt boasted strength and speed. Elissa guessed their combined rogue talents would be a force to be reckoned with in battle.

"No," Elissa said, "though there was an incident with the former Regent – Loghain, the man with an obsessive hatred for Orlais and everything to do with it, I mentioned him earlier – he had... teamed up with a Tevinter slaver. He was selling elves from our Alienage in Denerim – under the ruse of a healing operation, stealing them from their families right from under their noses." Elissa looked solemn. "Yet the man who was once a hero for our nation seemed to think he was doing what was best..." She shook her head in disgust and continued. "The operation was headed by a blood mage called Caladrius. I don't know how many Ferelden citizens were shipped out before I got to him... I know I was too late for some."

"Caladrius!" Rache said suddenly. "That good-for-nothing, sorry excuse for a mage!" The Tevinter Wardens all looked surprised – clearly such an outburst was uncommon from their soft-spoken mage. "Where is he now? I'll burn him from the inside out – a slaver indeed! And he wondered why the Templars at our Circle rule with an iron fist."

Elissa smiled. "The last I saw Caladrius he was a bleeding corpse on the floor of the warehouse he was using. He made the mistake of attempting to by his life by offering me a ritual to enhance my strength by sacrificing the elves around me." Elissa stretched her neck and felt the vertebrae in her click satisfyingly. "I accept that the Wardens will to anything to end the darkspawn, but as far as I'm concerned, as soon as blood magic starts to draw off anyone else's life force other than that of the caster, I'm not interested."

"Hear, hear," Rache said. "Better that the line is never crossed, however. There are other ways to victory."

There was the toll of a bell sounding the change of the watch and Namina started. "Sweet Maker, is it that late already? We've talked away half the night! Time for bed, the lot of you – especially you, Elissa, I've no doubt you're exhausted. Arrim and Alarra will be at your service for the duration of your stay."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose," Elissa, said with an embarrassed laugh. "My inability to speak Imperialist shouldn't take my fellow Wardens away from their duties."

"Nonsense," the twins said together. "We'd be honoured to show you around Minrathous."

Namina chuckled. "Our duties in Minrathous are few, and Arrim and Alarra have not long returned from scouting in the mountains on the border. They get bored around here – if anything I'm hoping you'll keep them out of mischief, if only for a brief while." Arrim looked sheepish while his sister looked scandalized.

"You make us sound like errant teenagers! What kind of impression is that for Warden Elissa?"

"One not far from the truth," Faelan rumbled, causing Rache and Mikahel to laugh.

Elissa grinned at the exchange, enjoying the family atmosphere here in Minrathous. "Then Arrim, Alarra, if you would be so kind to accompany me to the market tomorrow – I have no doubt I'll need your language skills to beat the traders at their haggling game."

x.x.x

The market in Minrathous stretched across two plazas linked by a series of stall-lined streets. One plaza was surrounded by taverns, houses and estates, the other (which was open right onto the docks) flanked by warehouses and shipwrights.

Elissa was charmed by the twins accompanying her. They were young, around nineteen summers, and Wardens for just short of eight months. They were recruited by Namina in the Free Marches town of Tantervale, after the pair ran into a spot of bother.

"So, the Free Marches isn't exactly an easy place to live," Alarra explained. Elissa nodded in understanding, having heard much about the ragtag collection of states. "And Arrim and me got by best we can – we were thieves for hire, essentially. Part of a game between the bigger noble houses in the Marches of 'who has the biggest secret art collection' – stupid really, but it paid well. Then Arrim got caught by the guards after our contact for one of our jobs ratted us out." Alarra clenched her fists. "So I hunted down the little weasel, slit his throat, then slipped into the jail to get Arrim out."

"But I'd already let myself out," Arrim said with a shy grin. "And we were both being chased by guards when we bumped into each other – literally – in the atrium of the prison. We tried to leg it, but were caught – by Namina."

"I thought that was it then – we were both gonna get strung up," Alarra said. "But Namina just grinned at the pair of us, looked up at the oncoming guards and said to the captain 'I'll take these, if you don't mind,' grabbed one of each of our arms in hers -,"

"- and she's damn strong, I had bruises for weeks," Arrim interjected.

"- took us back to her camp and said she'd heard about a pair of red-headed devils causing havoc in the Marches and offered us both a place in the Wardens." Alarra shrugged. "Beats stealing for money, that's for sure."

They spent most of the day in the upper market, Elissa shopping for small gifts to take back with her to Highever. She also bought Madoc a bone, as promised the day before, and then in the hunt for heavier armour for when she headed south to Weisshaupt, followed the twins to the lower market by the docks.

Elissa noticed four heavily armed guards loitering around one of the warehouses and pointed that out to her companions. "Slavers," Arrim said under his breath. Alarra merely spat on the floor in an unladylike fashion, but Elissa echoed her sentiment behind the gesture.

"Why are they there?" Elissa wondered aloud.

Arrim was wondering the same. "I thought the slave market wasn't open until tomorrow," he said looking at his sister expectantly. Alarra nodded.

"It isn't. Which means they're not working on the official market."

Arrim hissed under his breath. "Non-contract slaves. The worst kind."

"How is there a worse kind?" Elissa queried. Slavery was slavery – wasn't it?

"There's no good slavery if you ask me," Alarra explained, "but the official market slaves are contracted slaves – specific roles, rules about how you treat them and so on. A slave owner has as much chance of breaking the contract through maltreatment as the slave has by not doing their tasks. Also, those slaves will have sold themselves or been sold by their families. It's not right, but there's an element of consent involved. Non contract slaves are those that are smuggled in – elves stolen from other nations. It's illegal, and those caught face execution – but it still happens."

"Smuggled from other nations?" Elissa repeated. "So there could be Fereldens in there?"

"Quite possibly."

Elissa looked at the twins, then back at the warehouse. "I don't want to ask you to do anything that will get you in trouble," Elissa said with a sigh. "But I can't walk away from this without finding out if there are Fereldens that Loghain sold in that warehouse."

"But what will you do if there are Fereldens in there?"

"I don't know," Elissa said. "Free them somehow. Buy them, then free them if necessary. Anything."

Alarra looked at her brother and smirked. "Come on, Arrim, don't look so scared. If there are Fereldens there then they are definitely non-contract slaves – consider it a service to the community."

"But what if -,"

"Namina will no doubt appreciate what we've done. Aside from that, we won't get caught."

"Don't risk yourselves for my sake," Elissa said with a shake of her head. "I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Nonsense," the twins said together. "You'll need our help," Arrim added.

Elissa looked at the matching determination in their blue eyes and sighed. "Fine. But if anything happens, this is my fault. I won't let you take the blame for my interfering." She looked over at the warehouse, a plan forming in her head now she had people to direct. "We need to get someone inside – find the origins of the slaves. I know you're both rogue class – can one of you sneak in?"

"I'll go," Alarra said with a nod and cloaked herself in shadow and slipped around the back of the warehouse.

Once inside, Alarra felt her heart sink to see a dozen elves caged and chained. There were only two guards inside the warehouse – clearly they had confidence in their restraints. Alarra noticed that one of the elves in the corner cage was tied down more heavily than the others – while the others were either just caged or in manacles, this one had his arms locked together behind his back, his feet manacled and even his fingers tied together.

_A resistor_, thought Alarra, _and one with some skill it would seem. Did he manage to escape once? Twice?_

Alarra silently went up to the cage to get a closer look. His midnight hair was shoulder length and parted in the middle, his skin weathered and lightly tanned, though he looked pale due to confinement and probably lack of food. His dark green eyes, however, were sharp and watchful – and it was then Alarra realised he had been following her movements all along. Had her shadow faded? Her heart hammered in fear at the thought.

The caged elf must have seen her eyes widen because he said quietly. "I can see you. The others cannot. You are still blended in shadow, so do not worry. But why are you here?"

"Are you from Ferelden?" Alarra whispered. The elf nodded.

"All of us are. Sold by the Regent, of all things. So much for no slavery in Ferelden."

Alarra nodded. "That's all I need to know. I'll be back soon," she added, and quickly slipped back out of the warehouse, back to Elissa and Arrim.

Elissa took note of Alarra's grim expression. "There are Fereldens in there?"

"Twelve of them. All Ferelden. The one elf I spoke to said they were sold by the Regent – they must be from Caladrius' last shipment before you killed him."

"Andraste's blood," Elissa said, running a hand over her face. "I've got to get them out of there. Get them home." Her eyes scanned the harbour and a grin spread across her face when she spied a familiar ship in tied to the docks. "And the Maker smiles on me once more – Arrim, Alarra, wait here – I'll be back shortly."

Elissa jogged down the pier and felt her smile widen even further when she saw the captain at the base of the gangway. "I see the _Dancer_ is looking as fine as ever, Captain Skyhold."

The captain turned around and greeted Elissa with open arms. "My Lady Cousland, fancy seeing you here - what a pleasant surprise! I delivered your belongings to the palace in Denerim, as requested. A charming redhead helped me deliver them – she asked after you, I think her name was Leliana?"

Elissa positively beamed at the mention of one of her companions. "Yes, she is a dear friend of mine – though I'm afraid I am here to impose on your hospitality again."

"Well you're just in time for a trip to Denerim – I leave on the evening tide in fact."

"Oh no – not for me, Captain." Elissa lowered her voice and quickly relayed her intentions to the captain. "I can of course recompense you for the trouble in coin."

Captain Skyhold waved Elissa off. "I'll only take enough to cover food for the dozen and not a copper more, my lady. Your intentions are admirable and I would be honoured to help you rescue some of Ferelden's citizens. But hurry – the tides will not wait, I fear, and the harbourmaster will not take kindly to delays."

Elissa nodded and dashed back up to where the twins were waiting behind piles of crates. "I've negotiated passage to Denerim for them – now all we need to do is get them out of there. While I would like to avoid a scene, we don't have the time – we will need to use force. I understand if you cannot aid me further -"

"Nonsense," the twins said together, and Elissa laughed.

"Namina would have our heads if you got hurt –" said Arrim.

"- so don't think we're not helping you fight!" finished Alarra.

Elissa felt the anticipation of battle thrum across her nerves and her grin became almost feral. "Let's go," she said, stepping out of the shadow of the crate and into the sunlight, striding towards the waiting guards. Alarra was at her heels, while Arrim nimbly hopped up on the pile of crates to get a vantage point with his bow.

The guards started at their aggressive approach and the four heavy armoured mercenaries jumped to attention, hands going to their swords.

"Out of my way," Elissa demanded. "Or you will pay for holding Fereldens against their will."

The tallest of the burly men laughed, eyeing the young woman and two slight elves and making severe underestimations. "Pay? And how, little bird, do you propose to make _us_ pay?"

Elissa drew her swords and spun them menacingly. "The usual way will do." An arrow whistled passed her ear and lodged in the throat of one of the guards to the tall man's left. He dropped to the floor, the death rattle of his last breath bubbling over the blood pouring from his throat.

The other guards joined the fray, and Elissa engaged the biggest mecernary head on, while Alarra led the others a merry dance, dodging their clumsy attacks. She darted under the swinging maul and stabbed her assailant with a poisoned dagger. The man dropped his maul as burning pain seared through his abdomen and he fell to his knees. Her second attacker swung his greatsword but again to no avail, his poor warrior's technique leaving many openings for Alarra to use to her advantage. She ducked under his sword and stabbed him in the back while simultaneously Arrim caught the guard in the chest with a barbed arrow.

Elissa was locked in a fierce battle with the final guard, one who she supposed was the leader, since his skill was a mild improvement of his now dead fellows. His movements were still sluggish, allowing Elissa to avoid his shield bash and counter attack, her flurry of blades savagely stabbing him repeatedly until he fell.

Alarra and Elissa darted for the door to the warehouse, pulling it open. The two guards on the inside paled at the sight of the blood covered women and went to grab their swords. Elissa stopped one with the point of her blade and Alarra halted the other by tripping him up so he fell on his face and savagely stepping on his back.

"The keys," Elissa said with a frighteningly sweet smile, "if you would be so kind."

The terrified man down slowly and unwound the tie fastening the keys to his belt. He handed them over to Elissa's waiting hand and froze, not wanting to make any sudden movements.

Elissa lowered Starfang and jerked her head to the exit. "Go. Before I change my mind."

Alarra stepped off the floored guard and let him scramble to his feet. The two men ran for the door, nearly knocking over Arrim in their haste to escape. Elissa tossed a couple of the keys to each of the rogues. "Let's get these people out of here."

One by one each of the cages were opened and a huddle of confused elves gathered in the middle of the warehouse, Alarra and Arrim passing a skin of water around and explaining that they were being sent home. Elissa meanwhile was carefully unlocking the heavy manacles of the dark-haired elf in the corner.

"Maker's breath," she said, "why did they lock you up so tight?"

"So I wouldn't get out. Give me a bent piece of wire and I'll work most locks down. I escaped twice times."

"Then why are you still here?"

"I got caught while trying to free the others the first time. They just tossed me back in the cage and cuffed my hands," he said. "But if you know how, cuffs aren't that difficult either. The second time the commander twigged and bound me up twice. Had I had a blade on me I think I would have got free but..." The elf winced as he pulled his stiff arms free and rolled his shoulders experimentally. "I couldn't leave knowing the others would still be here." The elf looked at Elissa closely. "I recognise you... from the picture they were sending around the guard houses. You're a Grey Warden aren't you? How are you here?"

"You were a guard?" Elissa queried, ignoring his questions.

"Oh... no. I was a prisoner. Actually... what happens now? Where are we going?"

"You're going home. Back to Denerim. I've got a ship waiting for you all."

"Ah." The elf squirmed. "I... can't go back. I'm a wanted man you see – the Regent sold me instead of hanging me. Wasn't worth the rope he said."

"What's your name?" Elissa asked.

"Darrian. Darrian Tabris."

"Well, the Regent is no longer in control of Ferelden. I'm sure whatever you did to upset him would be forgotten."

"Erm... probably not."

Elissa scrutinised the young elven man. "What _did_ you do?"

"I killed Arl Urien's son."

"Vaughan?" The elf nodded. "Dare I ask why?"

Darrian look surprised. "Why?"

"Yes. You must have had a _reason_ for it, I presume?"

"I... yes, but... no one's ever asked _why_ before." Darrian let his gaze drop. "No one cared to ask why. Not from an elf."

"Well, I do," Elissa said stubbornly.

"I was supposed to be getting married. He kidnapped my bride, my cousin Shianni, and Soris' bride Valora, as well as the other bridesmaids. Soris and I went to the estate, snuck in through the servants entrance, and fought our way to him. He raped Shianni, and tried to buy his way out of it, so I killed him."

"Shianni? I met a Shianni at the Alienage in Denerim. And a Soris in the Denerim estate dungeons – do they both have red hair?"

"Yes – how do you know...?"

"Elissa!" Arrim called. "We haven't got much time!"

Elissa helped Darrian to his feet. "Quickly – we have to get the others on the boat. Don't worry – I won't make you go to Denerim yet. We'll think of something."

"Let me go with you," Darrian said.

"What?"

"You're a Grey Warden. Why don't you conscript me? I'm skilled – I can fight, amongst other things. I'll prove it to you," he said, his green eyes alight with determination. "Let me travel with you for a time, as a test. I'll prove myself to you."

Elissa considered it carefully and quickly. She could use with another travelling companion other than Madoc... and providing he survived the Joining, she would have another Warden for Ferelden. "Alright. But let us get your kinsmen on the _Dancer_ and out of here," she said. "Quickly now before we are noticed."

"Wait!" Darrian said quickly. "Your name – what's your name?"

"Elissa." And with that she rushed off to lead the Ferelden elves onto Captain Skyhold's vessel, glad that she was able to rectify some of Loghain's desperate mistake.

x.x.x.x

_I know the ending was a bit... meh . but it was starting to get really really long lol! Hope it was worth the wait._

_Please review – they make me happy :D_


	4. Chapter 3: Weisshaupt

_**FIRST OFF MASSIVE APOLOGY TO THOSE WHO READ MY MESS OF THOUGHTS **errrrr.... Yeah. Try and forget it all... half of it's probably all a lie... gah. Ruined it for everyone now... bollocks . I feel like a right tit now, I honestly have NO idea how that happened - buggery! Let's just put it down to me being generally addled in the brain by my dissertation and then uploading at midnight - note to self, never do that again. Thanks to Erynnar who messaged me about that... ohhh man. Talk about update fail. Right there. I'll just... go over here... *jumps off Fort Drakon*_

_Right. Now the real chapter._

_Which probably isn't as exciting as some of my notes. Oops._

_May upload a little extra chapter later as a doubly apology... A **real** chapter, not a mess of notes!_

x.x.x.x.x

Spring was chilly in the Anderfels and there were still pockets of snow that had escaped the initial thaw in the shadier parts of the pass. Elissa was glad she bought her thick cloak in Vol Dorma before they attempted the trek up the mountain roads.

She was sat just inside the tent, her legs pulled up to her chest as she peered through a gap in the tent flap to keep an eye out for any trouble. Dawn was rapidly approaching, and she sighed, thinking perhaps she should start packing up camp soon.

They'd left Minrathous the day after the Satinalia festival and had been on the road for nearly three weeks – hopefully they would arrive in Weisshaupt later this afternoon, assuming of course that the traders' they had spoken to were true to their word and map: apparently the raggedy mountain passes smoothed out to well kept roads in a mile or two.

Elissa looked over at her sleeping companions. Darrian was splayed out on his stomach, snoring lightly, his arm over the mabari next to him. Elissa noted with some amusement that Madoc was about as long as Darrian, stretched out like he was.

True to his word, Darrian Tabris had proven to be a very skilled rogue. When they hit a spot of bandit bother last week the resulting fight went a lot quicker than when it was just Elissa and Madoc. On top of that they stumbled across a cache of tightly locked chests when they took shelter from a storm in a roadside cave last week – locks which Darrian made quick work of.

They had split their hoard of treasure evenly – Elissa opted to sell hers in Vol Dorma, hard coin being more useful than gems. Darrian had done the same save for one pouch. "For Shianni," he said with a small smile, tucking them into his pack. "Something for her to have and keep and not spend on drink – not that she's alcoholic or anything," he added hastily, "we never _needed_ to drink, we just like to."

Darrian was fast becoming a good friend and part of Elissa was mildly wary of this. Not because of anything in Darrian's nature, not at all – in fact, for an elf that had been subject to the worst treatment from shems he was very open to Elissa. It was Darrian's Joining and the danger behind the ritual that had Elissa on edge. She had attempted to persuade Darrian to postpone his Joining until they returned to Ferelden but he was adamant he return to Denerim a Warden or not at all.

"I'm not going back just to get strung up," he had said vehemently.

She knew she shouldn't allow herself to get attached to him or used to having a travelling companion, just in case. She wondered how Duncan managed to go about his business ignoring the guilt of his actions – the excuse of "duty" could only go so far, she imagined. She was tempted to tell Darrian everything about being a Grey Warden, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do it. She tried to console herself with the fact that Darrian was quite enthused about the idea of being a Warden, and attempted to ignore the rest of the guilt gnawing at her.

Madoc's ears twitched, and, sensing his mistress was awake, stood up and stretched. Darrian's arm, which had been lying loosely across Madoc's back, slid off the now standing mabari and landed on the bedroll with a thump.

"Ow," Darrian murmured, opening one bleary eye to look at Madoc. "There are nicer ways to be woken up you know."

Madoc whined and licked Darrian's cheek in apology. The elf grimaced and wiped his face clean. "No need to apologise Madoc. Really," he added, warding off the enthusiastic mabari. "Go and pester Elissa. She's your boss."

"Aww, Madoc have you been rejected?" Elissa opened her arms wide to hug her mabari and gladly accepted the dog's slobbery affection. "Don't worry – I'll always love you."

"Even when he smells as bad as he does?"

Elissa gasped in mock indignation and covered Madoc's ears. "Don't you listen to him, Madoc, he cannot understand the importance of your warrior's _parfum_." She grinned at Darrian and scratched Madoc's back. "You were sleeping next to him comfortably enough."

"Yeah well... he's like a big hot water bottle and it's cold in here." Darrian sat up, his black hair ruffled and sleep mussed. "Is it dawn yet?"

"Almost. We'll start packing up now you're awake. Hopefully we'll be in Weisshaupt sometime this afternoon."

Darrian yawned, stretched and made a half-hearted attempt to flatten his hair before crawling out from his bedroll and changing into his armour. They packed quickly and quietly, ate a quick, light breakfast of what food they had left ("We'd better get to Weisshaupt this afternoon or we'll have to go hunting," Darrian commented) and headed north.

Elissa thanked Andraste for meeting at least one honest merchant on her travels – the road was probably built by the Ancient Tevinters but it was still in good condition. The road ran onto a massive bridge across a gorge, much like the one at Ostagar but this one was whole and intact. Elissa paused to look at the road ahead. "Nearly there," she said, pointing up to the shadowy silhouette in the distance.

"Good job too," Darrian said, scowling at the cloudy sky. "It's going to rain any minute now."

As if on cue, heavy drops of rain started to tumble from the heavens. Elissa laughed at the disgruntled look on Darrian's face as the rain quickly soaked his hair, his fringe plastered to his forehead.

The rain was cold. Cold rain plus cold air plus leather armour wasn't particularly pleasant, and though their cloaks warded against as much of the onslaught as they could, Elissa and Darrian were soon running through the rain to get to shelter under the crag of a rock. Madoc was panting and barking happily, jumping in the puddles that were rapidly pooling in the road.

Elissa smiled at her hound. There was something about the rain, as cold as it was, that was comforting. Elissa was reminded of Ferelden, and the miserable weather that often plagued the south. The cold sea storms that would fall over Highever each winter or the warm summer rain over the forests and fields.

Darrian looked at Elissa as if she was insane, his cloak wrapped tight around his shoulders. "Why are you _laughing_?"

"Why not?" she said between giggles. She reached out and thumped his arm affectionately. "Call yourself a Ferelden, Darrian? It's just a bit of rain!"

"Bit of rain? _Bit of rain_? It's bucketing it down!"

"Well, it doesn't look like it's going to be letting up any time soon. Think you can run a mile to the fortress?" Elissa leant into her companion and hip checked him. "Race you." She'd learnt that Darrian had a secret competitive streak that he often held back, claiming that it had got him into trouble more than once. Still, she saw no harm in indulging in such impulses on occasion and she grinned at him.

"Go onnnn the quicker we get to the fortress the quicker we can have a bath. Hopefully a hot one."

Darrian grinned back and suddenly sprinted out of the cave. "Hey!" Elissa shouted after him. "Cheater!"

"Rogue!" he corrected over his shoulder. Elissa laughed and quickly made an effort to catch up, Madoc at her heels. They were soon neck and neck, Darrian having slowed his pace graciously so she could close the distance, their cloaks billowing behind them as they ran across the bridge to the fortress gates.

They came to a halt in the shelter of the stone gate. Darrian squeeze water from his hair and Elissa wiped it from her face. Their efforts to dry were ruined when Madoc stood between them and shook methodically.

"Awwww, what? Madoc!" The two Fereldens looked at the mabari with matching looks of equal parts irritation and amusement, the euphoria from their sprint still running through their veins.

"I believe I win again," Darrian declared happily. Elissa was about to open her mouth to protest when another voice cut across them.

"_Ahem._"

Elissa and Darrian turned to the gate where a rather grumpy looking man stood, flanked by two guards. His dark beard and warrior's tail were streaked with grey, and deep set wrinkles betrayed his age. "I trust you have reason to be at Weisshaupt?" he said in Nevarran. "We do not offer shelter to travellers."

Elissa resisted the urge to scowl, reminded of Riordan's words to her about the cold nature of the wardens at Weisshaupt. Instead she smiled, her perfect political smile, and greeted her fellow Wardens with the traditional bow, her arms crossed and palms open. "Greetings, brothers," she said sweetly, ignore the unpleasant feeling of water dripping down her nose. "I apologise if my arrival has caused you any alarm – I doubt you were expecting me."

The frown deepened on the centre Warden's face. "You're a Warden? You... ah, yes, I sense it now. Which outpost are you from? Who's your Commander? Speak up!"

Elissa felt her patience rapidly wane, but maintained her polite aura. "I've not long left Minrathous. I've brought last month's reports on their behalf."

Elissa wondered if this man would ever stop frowning. "You're not part of Namina's contingent. What's your name?"

"Elissa," she replied smoothly. The warden to the right of the frowning one gasped, his eyes widening. He was young, probably a recent recruit on guard duty.

"Elissa?" he repeated. "Are you from Ferelden?"

"I've not been in Ferelden for many a month, but yes, that is where I was from. And recruited."

"Maker's breath," said the third warden, another young man. "It's _her_!"

"They finally realised you're one of them?" Darrian said to her in Ferelden as they were ushered into the fortress. "Took them long enough."

Elissa didn't bother to tell Darrian that actually they had finally realised who she was, not just that she was their sister-in-arms. She hadn't told Darrian the full story of her time in Ferelden - she had just told him the bare details of the situation in Ferelden but nothing of her involvement. She turned to the Senior Warden who had spoken to them to begin with.

"Who do I need to deliver Namina's reports to? I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with the protocols with the management of the Order – there wasn't really much of one to manage when I was last in Ferelden," she added.

"The First Warden will take them off you when he comes to see you, I'm sure," the older Warden replied. "He will meet you in the Hall if you would wait there – just through those doors. Now if you will excuse me, I have recruits to discipline before they all abandon their duties to get a look at you. Maker watch over you, Sister."

"And you, ser," she replied as the man walked away.

"Now what?" Darrian said after a moment.

"This way," she said, walking to the double doors that lead into the hall that the Warden had indicated.

The hall was obviously the main centre of the fortress, with a high ceiling supported by eight massive columns which flanked the hall, four on each side. A deep blue carpet ran down the centre of the room up to a raised platform with a large table at the far end.

Darrian was entranced. The architecture was detailed and intricate, the heavy columns covered in carvings of warriors of every race and monsters of every size, locked in battle. In between each pair of columns was a large statue apparently depicting a Warden of some note.

"Duilius Carodel, Slayer of Dumat," he read from the plaque below the statue of a grizzled and angry looking Tevinter warrior brandishing a brutal looking warhammer. He walked across the room to look at the one opposite it, another burly human warrior, this one wielding a massive greatsword. "Luther, Scourge of Zazikel. Huh, I wonder why he hasn't got a surname." The elven rogue walked back across the room to look at the third monument. "Einarr of Rivain, Toth's Destruction." The subject of this monument was nowhere near as heavy set as the previous ones, and was depicted with daggers at his hips and pulling back on the drawstring of a longbow.

"Why are all this statues of humans?" Darrian grumbled. "I thought the Wardens were an order of equals? A-ha, that's more like it!" he added, looking up at the determined face of an elf, who was far from slight in terms of his race but merely looked it with his statue next to the burly Luther. "Garahel – Andoral's Judge. Hey, I've heard of him. Didn't he end a Blight? Elissa?" Darrian looked around. He thought she was behind him, but then he spotted her standing at the foot of the fifth and final statue in the room, in between the columns nearest to the dais on the opposite side. She had dropped her pack to the floor, her arms loose by her side.

"Elissa?" Darrian called again, walking up to her. Madoc, who was sat dutifully beside her, gave Darrian a reproachful look as if to say 'Shhh!' The elf said no more and looked at the statue that Elissa was staring at.

It had obviously only recently been finished, the stone shiny and new, especially in comparison to the other four in the hall. The warrior was human, armed with a shield emblazoned with Denerim's coat of arms and holding a longsword peppered with runes. Darrian's eyes dropped to the plaque at the warrior's feet.

_King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden, Urthemiel's Bane._

'_King Alistair of Ferelden?' _Darrian thought, confused. He looked at Elissa, who's lips were pulled into a tight line, her jaw set. Her eyes looked suspiciously watery. Darrian tactfully remained silent and walked away towards the table on the dais, leaving her to her vigil and her thoughts. They had talked about her and her history – he knew she was from Highever, he had heard all about her brother and some of her friends. He knew she was a Warden and she fought darkspawn in Ferelden, but clearly he was missing a lot of the story and he was itching with curiosity. He curbed it, and busied himself instead with looking at the massive and detailed map of Thedas which was set into the table top under glass.

Elissa was... she didn't know. Her head was thinking a lot of things at once. She was prepared to see his name, hear is name, and certainly talk about him should she have been asked but to see his likeness... it was odd. The carver had obviously had a good look at him or been given a good description since the likeness was uncanny except for two things. Out of her muddle of thoughts she managed to pick out the two things, and decided that maybe if she focussed on them then maybe her head would fix itself.

One: he looked too serious.

Admittedly, you couldn't have a smiling statue or a hesitant or reluctant looking one (since that was probably Alistair's expressing the rest of the time), but still the seriousness looked a bit out of place.

Two: the runes on his sword were wrong.

The ones near the hilt were right, she was sure of it, but then for the other seven eighths of the sword they were wrong – as if the artist was guessing or something.

"_I wonder what those runes all mean?"_

_Elissa looked up at Alistair as he came into their tent. She had been giving the blade the once over, cleaning it and making sure it was sound. "Whatever they mean, they are powerful. I can feel it, just by holding it."_

_Alistair sat down behind her, his legs going either side of her and his arms going around her waist. He pulled her into him and rested his head on her shoulder. "So are you going to use it?"_

"_Me? I've got Starfang."_

"_Yeah, but don't think I haven't seen you practicing your twirly whirly stuff with two full size weapons. Any day now your dagger will stay in its sheath and you'll have two swords on your back mark my words."_

"_Twirly whirly stuff?" Elissa queried, a dangerous note to her voice. Alistair quickly back pedalled._

"_Well, magical spins of death then. I don't know, I'm your basic clumsy swordsman. I don't have your grace or style," he added pushing aside the loose opening of her tunic to press a kiss to her bare shoulder. _

"_That as may be," she said, sliding the blade back into its ornate sheath and trying to remain aloof and mock offended – which was increasingly difficult as Alistair's lips were moving sensually from her shoulder to her neck. She turned sideways in his arms, ignore his whine of protest as her neck was moved out of his reach. She ignored his pout and handed the sword to him. "It's not mine to wield."_

_Alistair looked from the proffered hilt to Elissa then back at the sword again. "Oh no. No-no-no-no. I can't... that was the _King's_! I can't use that. We'll store in and take it back to Denerim for when this is all over."_

"_Alistair. Whether you end up as King or not," she said, ignoring his flinch at the suggestion, "you are Maric's son. It is right that you wield this. You said it yourself that Cailan wanted to kill the Archdemon with it. This isn't an heirloom for the rulers of Ferelden – it is an heirloom for the line of Theirin. Take it. It's yours now."_

"Warden Elissa?" a strange voice cut in suddenly, startling Elissa from her memories. She turned to the newcomer, an petit elf with black hair. She didn't have her staff with her but Elissa didn't need to see it to tell she was a mage – she could feel her magical talent. She didn't, however, dress like a normal mage, forgoing robes for an azure linen skirt and silver hauberk of finely woven chain. A plaited sash bearing a griffon buckle was clipped around her waist.

"That's me," Elissa said, turning her back on Alistair's monument and pulling her pack back onto her shoulder. She notice Darrian still avidly examining the map of Thedas. "Are you the First Warden?"

The elf chuckled and shook her head. "I'm afraid Jarlath is unavailable at present – he has just received an urgent missive from Hossberg which requires his immediate attention. I am Senior Warden Fiona – and I am very pleased to meet you at last. When we finally received word from Ferelden about your success well... relief doesn't quite describe it."

Ferelden's Warden smiled sadly. "It was not my success but his," she said, looking over her shoulder at the statue.

"The missives from your Queen say otherwise. Something about raising an army with old treaties, deposing a Regent, making a King and leading the final charge?"

"We do what we must," Elissa said flatly.

"That we do," Fiona admitted, "though I daresay other new recruits in your situation would have sought their peers in Orlais. But enough of this for now - let me take you and your companion to your quarters. No doubt you will be grateful for a hot bath following your experience with the Fellish weather."

x.x.x

One hot bath and meal later and Elissa was feeling infinitely better.

Their quarters were comfortable but practical, Elissa's room separated from Darrian's by a thick wall with equally thick door. Madoc was curled up on the bed, fast asleep. Evening was fast approaching, and she was due to meet Fiona – and hopefully the First Warden – shortly, but she had to make sure of something. She rapped her knuckles on the hard oak door. "Darrian?"

"Come in," came the muffled reply. She opened the door to see him lying on his bed with a black leather-bound book open in front of him.

"Found something interesting?"

"Hmm? Yeah..." he said, turning the page. "In amongst those massive history books on the shelf over there was this little thing. It's a skill manual – the writer calls himself a 'Shadow'." Darrian sat up but continued reading. "He details all sorts of poison and concealment techniques. I thought I might... borrow it."

Elissa grinned. "Well, it certainly sounds useful, and no one appears to be missing it if it was hidden amongst that lot. I say 'borrow' away. But I wanted to talk to you for a minute, if that's okay."

"Of course," he said, laying the manual beside him.

"I'm going to be seeing Fiona shortly to deliver the reports from Namina and give her the first-hand account of the situation in Ferelden -,"

"You ended it, didn't you? The Blight in Ferelden. I heard Fiona talking to you."

Elissa opened her mouth once or twice, unsure of what to say. "I... helped. Yes. But that's another matter. I'll tell you the full story later," she added, seeing Darrian open his mouth to ask another question. "I promise. I just wanted to make sure this is what you really wanted."

"Being a Warden?"

"Yes. It's not always as calm or glamorous as this – it's not glamorous at all actually," she said sincerely. "We sacrifice an awful lot to become what we are. And there's no going back. I can't explain it properly, not yet, but I can assure you that it's not a decision to be made lightly. Aside from that, I don't know the state of play in Ferelden – I know we have a base and an arling now, and that a contingent of Orlesian Wardens is setting up the basics there -,"

"I bet that's going down well," Darrian muttered.

"...quite. Anyway. If you're still sure you want to be a Warden, then come with me to see Fiona. If not, then you can stay here and I'll get you back to Ferelden, wrangle a pardon out of the Queen for you and you can go about your life."

"I said I'd follow you and prove myself to you," Darrian said seriously. "I will do it."

"The Joining could kill you," Elissa blurted out. Darrian merely shrugged.

"If it that is how it is meant to be then so be it. I've had a good time travelling with you and I thank you for freeing me and my own. And for the chance to make something of myself. Not many elves get such an opportunity."

Elissa sighed and nodded. "As you wish." She stood up and went back to her room to fetch the papers.

"Elissa," Darrian said as she reached the doorway. She stopped and faced him.

"Do you... think I'll make a good Warden?"

She nodded, and her reply was honest and true. "I think you'll make a great Warden."

And the smile on his face then was enough to dispel her doubts. She had no choice to Join, but he did, and he wanted to. She would arrange his Joining and no matter what happened she would have no regrets.

x.x.x

Fiona was waiting for them in the Hall along with another Warden. His hair was ash blonde and bound in a tight warrior's braid at the back of his head, and he wore a deep blue doublet and practical leather trousers.

"Apologies for our late arrival," said Elissa, bowing to her brother and sister. "The corridors of Weisshaupt are quite a maze."

Fiona smiled and beckoned her forward. "Elissa, this is First Warden Jarlath. Jarlath, Elissa of Ferelden and her companion... Darrian was it?"

"Actually," Elissa cut across Darrian's attempt to confirm Fiona's statement. " Darrian is my recruit. He is a very skilled fighter, and Ferelden born, so a welcome addition to our numbers in the country. I was hoping it would be possible to have him take his Joining here in Weisshaupt."

"But of course," the First Warden replied. He had a deep voice that only carried a slight trace of a Fellish accent. "Fiona, would you mind making the preparations?"

"Of course, First Warden," Fiona said, making a swift exit. Once she had left, Jarlath reached out to take both of Elissa's hands in his own.

"Elissa, it is truly marvellous to see you at last," he said, and from what Elissa could tell, he was being sincere. Then again, she could also tell he was a practiced politician, meaning that any empty flattery would be cleverly disguised as the real deal. "Your actions in Ferelden were an inspiration to us all. Had the Blight spread to the central lands... well, tensions between Orlais and Nevarra would have been difficult to resolve, not to mention the general dislike the rest of Thedas has for Tevinter. The swiftness of your dispatch of the Archdemon meant you saved us having to play yet more political games and thus saved a lot of lives, Warden and civilian alike."

Elissa inclined her head. "I was under the impression that Wardens refrained from mixing in politics."

"We refrain from siding with countries in their wars, that is true," Jarlath admitted. "But as you no doubt discovered in Ferelden, sometimes it is necessary for us to... intervene. For the benefit of the country, you understand. I think it is safe to say we refrain from being _openly_ political."

Elissa said no more and instead turned to Darrian, who handed her Namina's folder. "The reports from Senior Warden Namina. She apologises for the delay asked that I deliver them on her behalf – the darkspawn activity in the High Reaches has been such that they may be able to reclaim a whole thaig on behalf of Kal-Sharok. She's using every Warden she has to make the best of the Thaw."

"Ever practical is our Namina," Jarlath admitted. "One of Warden-Commander Kalem's finest. I'm glad you had a chance to meet her. You have my thanks for running her errand – but it is Ferelden that I would like to talk about."

"Of course."

"I'm intrigued as to why you left Ferelden. As the last native Warden in your country... well, Ferelden needs you."

Elissa opened her mouth and then closed it again, her eyes flicking to the statue of Alistair over the First Warden's shoulder. Jarlath turned slightly to follow her line of sight. "Ah," he said. "So the rumours are true."

"My apologies, First Warden," Elissa said. "I can understand that our conduct was probably less than orthodox but-"

"No, no," Jarlath said quickly. "There are no rules against it. Indeed, it is widely accepted that only a Warden can understand a Warden. From what I can gather from various sources, ultimately you led the army and Alistair through the various battles you had."

"That is true."

"And, judging from your... holiday..." Jarlath said quietly, mindful of Darrian's presence, "you did not intend for Alistair to have the final blow."

"...correct," Elissa admitted.

Jarlath paused, considering his next words carefully. "Are you intending to return to Ferelden?"

"Yes of course!" Elissa replied. "Not immediately however – I have business to attend to in Val Royeaux, so I won't be crossing the Waking Sea from Cumberland, I'll be going to long way around." The business was a lie – Elissa just wanted to see Val Royeaux. But Jarlath didn't need to know that. "As a result, I don't know when I will be back in the country."

"I see. Well, _when_ you return to Ferelden, I would be most appreciative if you would consider the Warden Commander post. It would be better for our fragile relationship with Ferelden if the head of the Wardens was one of their own. I'm not asking you to make a decision now," he added, seeing Elissa open her mouth to respond, "just for you to consider it."

Elissa hesitated. "I will think on it."

Jarlath smiled. "You have my thanks. No if you will excuse me, I'm afraid I can see another emissary from Hossberg hovering outside the Hall." Elissa looked over her shoulder and indeed, a messenger was fidgeting in the corridor. "Fiona will be back soon, I would think. It has been good to meet you, Sister," Jarlath added, extending his arm to Elissa. Elissa grasped his forearm and him hers in a typical exchange of respect between warriors. Jarlath added an affectionate pat to her shoulder, took the folder of reports from the tables and turned to Darrian.

"Best of luck with your Joining," he said before leaving the Hall to meet the waiting messenger.

Darrian let out the breath he was unaware he was holding and looked to Elissa on his left. "So that was the big boss?"

"Apparently so," Elissa said. She was staring down at the table top, her fingers resting on where Ferelden was on the map.

The elf tried to catch Elissa's eye. "Will you tell me the full story now? Before... before I go to Join?"

Elissa looked up, her blue eyes meeting his green. She looked back down at the map, her index finger resting gently on Highever on the Waking sea coast. "I was a noble before I was a Grey Warden. The daughter of Teryn Bryce Cousland," she said with a small smile. "The darkspawn were massing in the south, and my father and brother were going to answer the King's call to arms..."

Elissa kept the story as brief as she could, telling Darrian about how she was recruited, the betrayal at Ostagar, how she and Alistair ended up as the last two Wardens. She didn't go into detail about each disaster she had to fix in the various areas, she just traced their journey with her finger on the map. She spoke of how she made Alistair king, declared herself his consort and led an army for him and then, at the final battle, how he died. She didn't hold back on details like Jarlath had – there was no going back for Darrian now and he knew this as well as she.

"And now you're here," Darrian said quietly in the wake of her story.

"And now I'm here," she affirmed.

"Will you take the Warden-Commander post in Ferelden?"

"Probably," Elissa said with a sigh. "When I get there anyway. It is my duty, I suppose."

Darrian nodded. "Good. I wouldn't want some _Orlesian _as my Commander."

There was a soft chuckle from the doorway and Fiona stepped into the room. "It's good to know that some rivalrys will never die. If you would both follow me to the Chapel – your Joining awaits, young Darrian."

Darrian's eyes flicked to Elissa then back to the Fiona. He straightened his shoulders and walked to Fiona, Elissa not far behind.

The Chapel was a windowless room, built in a perfect circle with a circular stone table bearing the Joining Chalice at its centre. Fiona closed the door behind her and light the torches around them with her hands. The walls were a continuous mural, a detailed painting of a massive battle, darkspawn on one half and Wardens on the other.

Fiona stood on the opposite side of the altar, framed by the mural at the point where darkspawn and Wardens clashed. "During the first Blight," she said clearly, "when our ancestors stood on the brink of destruction, the Grey Wardens were founded. An order of men and women dedicated to fighting the darkspawn, and giving their lives to that end."

Elissa walked to the right of the altar and stood silently near the wall, the Wardens behind her and the darkspawn opposite her on the other side. She crossed her wrists behind her back and stood perfectly straight and still, her eyes fixed on the darkspawn painted on the opposite wall. She was nervous. Scared, even. She didn't feel like this at her own Joining – probably because at the time she felt she had nothing to lose. Fiona continued her speech.

"Our immunity to the taint, our strength and our sacrifice comes from the very creatures we strive against," the Orlesian elf said. "To master the taint within ourselves," she said, gesturing to the chalice in front of her, "we must first drink of it. To this you are called to submit for the greater good."

Darrian stepped forward and peered into the cup warily. Black-red blood was settled in the chalice. "Is that... darkspawn blood?" he asked.

Elissa nodded stiffly. "Yes," Fiona confirmed.

"Isn't it poisonous?"

"To some," Fiona explained, "and certainly when the taint is not controlled. This darkspawn blood has been treated with lyrium and the blood of an Archdemon – you will either master the taint and take it within yourself, or die."

Darrian took a deep breath and let it out with a low whistle. "Wow. You don't dress it up, do you?"

Fiona ignored his glib remark. "We speak but a few words before the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Elissa – if you would?"

Inside, Elissa sighed. Replace "Elissa" with "Alistair" and then Fiona's word would have been exactly the same as Duncan's at her Joining all that time ago. Clearly, there was a script for this. She took a steadying breath, and tried to get the words just right, just as Alistair did at Ostagar.

"Join us, brothers and sisters," she intoned. "Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten - and that, one day, we shall join you."

Darrian looked at Elissa. The look on her face was so _serious_. He caught her eye and raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. "Cheer up, Commander," he said happily, reaching for the chalice. "This can't be worse than what those Tevinters called water. Or Shianni's cooking."

Elissa's mouth twitched at one corner into a small smile. Darrian grinned at her and brandished the chalice in toast. "To freedom."

Elissa watched with bated breath as Darrian gulped down some of the blood. He gagged, swallowed, and hastily replaced the cup back on the altar. His eyes shone white and rolled back into his head as he fell in a heap on the floor.

Fiona stepped around the altar and knelt to press her fingers to his pulse. "He lives, Elissa."

Elissa let out the breath she had been holding. "Thank the Maker," she said. She walked towards them and bent down to lift Darrian off the floor. He was still slight thanks to his ordeal with the Tevinters, and Elissa's strength made lifting him no trouble.

"The infirmary is not far from here," Fiona said. "I'll take you there and make sure he is comfortable. He can be monitored there in case of any after effects from the Joining."

"Well isn't he spoilt," Elissa said, a tad jealous.

"Hm?" Fiona queried as she opened the door to the corridor. "Oh yes – you were thrown straight into battle follow your Joining, weren't you?"

"Yes, at Ostagar... wait... you were there when I was talking to Darrian?"

Fiona smiled. "It is the main Hall. Anyone could have been listening."

"...true," admitted Elissa grudgingly. She followed the elf mage into the empty infirmary, and laid Darrian down on one of the clean beds.

"The patrols for this week have only just been sent out," Fiona said, lighting the laterns with her magic. "Hence why the infirmary is empty. No doubt we'll be full soon enough – it depends how cautious the Seniors are when hunting the spawn."

Elissa sat down on the bed next to Darrian's as Fiona busied herself with filling a jug of water and setting it on the besides table. The mage then sat down on the chair between the two beds. Silence fell between them until Fiona broke it. "You've had a rough time of it, haven't you?"

Elissa snorted. "I guess so. I haven't really thought about it much since I left – not looking back, just taking one day at a time, picking a town on the map and getting there. Learning new things, seeing new things, not bound by duty or people's expectations. Odd, that I spend all my life learning about duty and how to exercise it best, then one year of solidly doing just that and I've had enough," she said with a laugh. She looked at Fiona who was watching her intently. "I'm sorry – you don't need to hear all this. The ramblings of a Grey Warden born from a Blight."

"No, go on," Fiona said with a smile. "It's good to get things like this off your chest. You met Darrian in Minrathous did you not? And even then, you were scared to open up to him in case he died tonight. In that respect, you've been travelling alone for a very long time."

"I've had Madoc," Elissa said. "My mabari."

Fiona laughed again. "Ah yes, you Fereldens and your dogs. Well, I've had the pleasure of travelling and fighting with a warrior and his mabari before, but as intelligent as they are, they are not the same."

"I suppose," Elissa conceded. She swallowed and tried to sort out the thoughts in her head. "It's like," she started… "like I don't know where I'm going anymore. I never thought I would survive the Blight – and hell, that night before when Riordan told us the reason for Grey Wardens… and then Morrigan…" Elissa shook her head quickly, knowing she should not say anymore. She ignored Fiona's questioning glance and pressed on. "I knew I wasn't going to survive the Blight. And then I did. And now I'm lost, cut adrift. Living beyond my time. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Fiona nodded and smiled to herself, familiar with that feeling. "You will find a use for that time, have no fear. I daresay you've learnt a lot about yourself on your travels. And you have family and friends waiting for you in Ferelden, no?"

"Yes," Elissa said with a smile. "That is true. I... thank you Fiona. Truly. I do feel better now."

The conversation stopped as Darrian twitched suddenly, his brow furrowing. He rolled onto his side and curled up, his hands balling into fists. Fiona stood up, her hands glowing with a blue light as she touched the younger elf's forehead, relaxing him.

"What's your school specialisation?" Elissa asked. "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"Not at all," Fiona replied, sitting back down now that Darrian was a bit more settled. "Most of my spells are from the schools of primal and creation – though given my age, I've got a capable understanding and collection of spells from spirit and entropy too."

"You can't be older than thirty, surely?"

Fiona laughed. "I'm over forty. I suppose being an elf has its advantages in that respect – we do age well."

"Your talents wouldn't happen to extend to Healing, would they?"

"They do indeed. I run the Infirmary here."

Elissa shifted uncomfortably. "Could I possibly ask for your expert opinion on something?"

Fiona tilted her head. "Of course."

Elissa unstrapped her right leather glove, pulled it off then shrugged off her elbow guard. She unclipped the shoulder pauldron and slipped her arm from the leather sleeve. Fiona noted that her right arms was swathed in a bandage, from her shoulder right up to her wrist. Elissa began to unwind the bandage and the elf mage stood up to get a better look.

"Maker's breath," she breathed. "I... how did this happen?"

Elissa smiled ruefully. "The Archdemon. Coupled with metal shards and refusing to be healed for hours, I imagine."

Her arm was smothered in scar tissue, the skin melded in swirls from her wrist to over her shoulder. It was raised in places, pitted in others, and interspersed amidst the swirling pattern were two rows of puncture marks, one on top of the arm and one below, some of this punctures flanked by smaller white scar lines. The scarring itself was akin to that of a burn, but the colouring of some of the raised swirls was a deep and malicious looking purple. From a distance, Fiona supposed that it would look like an intricate tattoo.

"It was grounded – Riordan saw to that – but it was causing havoc on the roof of Fort Drakon. I had men manning the ballistas, but I needed to keep its attention to stop it destroying those, or we'd have had no chance of weakening it. And at one point I wasn't fast enough – it lunged, I span out of the way to stop it severing my arm at least, but it still caught me between its jaws," she said, lifting her arm to show the two matching rows. "My splintmail shattered at each puncture point – that's what all these white lines are. I was stuck, it didn't want to let me go so it did what any dragon normally does."

"Breathed fire."

"Quite. Except it wasn't regular fire – it was purple. And it didn't remove my skin so much as melt it. And my splintmail."

"It melted your splintmail onto your arm?" Fiona said with alarm.

"No all the way no – the fire almost went beyond the dragonbone, melting my skin before the armour."

"Corrupted spirit fire," Fiona surmised.

"Come again?"

"Spirit fire – it's a primary component to the arcane bolt, I'm sure you've seen those in action. Most dragon's are resistant to it. You were lucky your splintmail was dragonbone. Any other armour would have melted to your skin at such an onslaught. Unfortunately it can't shield against the attack – which is why your skin was still damaged. How did you get free?"

"Thanks to Alistair and a well placed shield bash to its eye. My arm was still stuck on its teeth for a moment though so it was wrenched – badly. I could barely use my main sword arm for the rest of the battle."

Fiona looked at Elissa's arm more closely. "Whoever healed it is good at their job. There's nothing more I can do for it."

"Ah, well, it's not really the scarring that's the problem – I'm getting used to the idea that nothing can be done about that. Wynne's an exceptional healer. Without her I'd be a walking map of scars, all over."

"If you're getting used to the idea then why do you cover it up?"

Elissa smirked. "I'm still getting used to the idea. Others won't have the chance to. They'll ask questions or pass comment or something. It's not exactly a scar with an easy explanation, or one that can just be passed off like these," she said, pointing to the arrow marks on her collarbone.

"Ah... I see your point."

"Anyway, it's here that I wanted you to have a look at," Elissa said, lowering her arm and putting a hand over where the back of her shoulder met her body. "It's really tight here when I do _this_," she said, pulling her arm backwards. "Partly from when my arm was wrenched and partly because of the burn. So I was wondering whether there is a way to sort of... loosen the scarring there. And maybe check the muscles underneath? I've been doing the exercises Wynne said to do, and they mostly work but it's when I do..." she made the move again and winced, "_that._"

Fiona scowled. "I get the point, no stop doing _that_ – you might make whatever it is worse. And keep still." She held her glowing hands over Elissa's shoulder. "The muscles are okay – you were right about the scarring. Your skin's too tight around the muscle – I'll try and loosen that off now, but keep up with those muscle exercises too. They will help stretch the skin and free up your movement."

At that moment Darrian stirred. "Owwwww," he said, rolling over on to his back. "Those... things. Were they darkspawn? Ugh... my mouth feels like its burning."

"There's water on the side table," Fiona said, rotating her hovering hand over Elissa's back.

"Thanks," he said, sitting up gingerly and reaching for the jug. He gulped down the water and swilled it around his mouth. "Is that... normal? The dreams?"

"Yes," Elissa and Fiona said together.

"They come and go," Elissa continued. "You learn to sort of block them out eventually. Be thankful you didn't Join during a Blight," she added, remembering her first nightmare. "Nothing quite ruins your sleep so much as an Archdemon screaming in your face."

Darrian grimaced. "I can imagine. Though those big ones were rather... Hessarian's mercy, what happened to your arm?"

"Nothing new," Elissa said. "Old injury. I'll explain later," she said. "I promise," she added, seeing the rebellious look on his face.

"Yes well," Darrian said grumpily, swallowing some more water. "I didn't die and I'm a Grey Warden now, right? So no more secrets or sketchy details."

Elissa grinned. "Yes ser. Maybe you ought to be Warden Commander when we get back to Ferelden."

"Err..." Darrian flustered. "No thanks. I'll settle for your right hand though – enough responsibility to be important but not so much that I have to take the blame for everything. Or make the big decisions."

"Thanks, Darrian, your support is most welcome," Elissa said dryly. Darrian snickered.

"So now what, Commander?" Darrian said, stretching his arms.

"I'm not a Commander."

"Yet."

"Precisely, so just Elissa is fine."

"Okay then, so now what _just_-Elissa?"

"You can both shut up while I finished this," Fiona snapped. Elissa and Darrian both fell silent, not looking at each other in case they started to laugh. "There. Done. Try moving your arm now."

Elissa rolled her shoulder tentatively then proceed to make more vigourous gestures. "That's brilliant! Thank you so much, Fiona – I can slice and dice a lot easier now," she said with a smile. Now Darrian was awake and apparently none worse for wear, Elissa's tensions had all but melted away. She turned to look at Fiona and stopped suddenly.

Fiona blinked, her brown eyes regarding Elissa with concern. "Elissa? Are you okay?"

"I... yes," she said breathlessly. "Yes I am. It's just..." _Your eyes reminded me of someone._ Elissa shook her head. "I'm probably just tired, that's all. It's been a long day. So! The plan!" she declared, looking back at Darrian with a grin.

"With the First Warden's permission we'll stay in Weisshaupt for a few weeks – I'll try and arrange to take you on some patrols, kills some darkspawn, the practical things. And I need to hit the library to get my Warden knowledge fully up to scratch," she said, "my piecemeal 'This is what Duncan mentioned' tidbits from Alistair, while mildly useful, were hardly the full course..."

Fiona watched Elissa and Darrian leave the infirmary, chatting about what they would do here and where they would go next. The elven mage couldn't help but smile. Her heart ached for her son, but she knew that her son died for the noblest of causes.

_Maybe I will return to Ferelden one day,_ Fiona thought. Twenty years of Weisshaupt was beginning to grate on her – and she was running out of books to read. _There I could tell her the truth without worrying about repercussions. And then,_ Fiona thought with a smile to herself, _then I could thank her for saving my son._

x.x.x.x

_Whew! Another long chapter. I thought about splitting it up, but I don't really have anything else exciting to happen at Weisshaupt for our Elissa. I'm actually quite annoyed at myself that I've managed to write so much for the parts that are merely leading into the plot parts lol. Oh well – I hope you're enjoying them anyway._

_Please review! Reviews make me happy!_

_Sorry again for the fuckup... looooool __


	5. Chapter 4: Val Royeaux

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or the ballad Darrian sings. I just changed "Baltimore" to "Denerim" for context's sake._

**Chapter Five: Val Royeaux**

"There were four old whores from Denerim  
Drinking beer and wine.  
The topic of conversation was  
'Mine is bigger than thine...'"

"Dear Maker! Darrian!" Elissa said, trying not to laugh. "Shhhh!"

"What?" Darrian said innocently. "If they _truly_ can't speak Ferelden to serve me, then they won't understand." Nearly every trader they had approached in the Upper Market didn't – or at least refused to – speak Ferelden. Elissa, after haggling furiously with the general trader in Orlesian, had found this hard to believe, since every Orlesian trader she'd ever met was a capable linguist.

"You know it's because I'm an elf," Darrian said. "An uneducated and lowly elf." Elissa thumped his arm when he started putting on sad sighs and over dramatic woeful faces.

"Shut up. They're not talking to me in Ferelden either, but if that's their reason then they're not worth my time. Or money."

So Darrian had devised a sort of... test. The bawdy ballad was a favourite in the docks apparently, and it was making Elissa cringe (and laugh).

"The first old whore from Denerim said,  
'Mine's as big as the air.  
The birds fly in, the birds fly out,  
And never touch a hair.'"

"That's _disgusting!_" Elissa exclaimed, giving in to the laughter. "Ewww not even _Oghren_ sang as song as bad as that!"

"The second old whore from Denerim said,  
"Mine's as big as the moon.  
The men jump in, the men jump out,  
And never touch the womb.'"

To make it better, Darrian was making big animated gestures to go with his singing while Elissa was laughing. It became apparent then which traders were lying – half a dozen of the nearby stall-owners were pulling faces or reacting to Darrian's bawdy ballad.

"The third old whore from Denerim said,  
'Mine's as big as the sea.  
The ships sail in, the ships sail out,  
And leave their rigging free.'"

"Maker, please make him stop," Elissa said between giggles. "That's _horrible_."

"Nearly done, 'Lis, but we can't leave out whore number four...

The fourth old whore from Denerim said,  
'Mine's the biggest of all!  
A man went up in the springtime,  
And didn't come out till fall.'"

Elissa must have been a sight, doubled up with laughter in the middle of the market. "You're a shining example of our nation, Darrian, I applaud you!" she said sarcastically once she had recovered.

"I do my best," Darrian said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "Now, out of the traders the only ones not to look horrified or sickened were the potions lady on the corner, and the blacksmith over here. And he does have the best armour in the market. We can't have the _Hero of Ferelden_ returning home in raggedy leather."

"It's not raggedy! And remind me _never_ to tell you anything again." Ever since Darrian had wheedled the full true story from her, he'd been teasing her with that Maker-forsaken moniker.

"But look at that splintmail! It's white steel. _White steel!_ We'll have to orchestrate your _glorious_ return to Denerim! White steel – and a white horse! And a big blue cape with the Grey Warden insignia on it...!"

"Right, that's it, we're leaving!"

"Hah, wait, watch how their eyes have lit up now! Yep, ladies and gents, you snubbed the Hero of Ferelden, nay the Hero of _Thedas_-!"

"Leaving!" Elissa repeated, grabbing Darrian by his thick black hair. The elf yelped as Elissa dragged him back to where they were staying in the lower market.

"Ow-ow-ow-ow let go, you can let go now!" Elissa released him and he turned to face her, his hair stuck up at every angle. "Why'd you run off?"

Elissa rolled her eyes. "Some of us aren't a fan of fame and all the baggage that goes with it. Besides, I've probably got as many friends as enemies. People who would use a celebrity to their advantage."

"Ah... okay. Point taken." Darrian looked suitably abashed as they walked back to their tavern together."

"...so what _are_ you going to do when we get back to Ferelden?"

"Maker! This again?"

"What?" Darrian he said innocently. "I'm curious! Besides, the last three times I've asked we've either been attacked by bandits or you've changed the subject. Come on. You must have _thought_ about it."

"Of course I've thought about it," Elissa said, walking up the stairs of the inn to their room. She unlocked the door to find Madoc waiting obediently by the door. He yipped happily as they entered and started jumping in small circles. Elissa stretched out on the bed, her back propped against the headboard, strangely exhausted even though all they'd done was walk around the city all day. No fighting, no bandits, no darkspawn – just walking. Madoc hopped on the bed at her feet, his head resting on her legs.

Darrian latched the door behind him and went to the window to open the shutters, letting the red evening sunshine pour in. He flopped on the bed beside Elissa and looked up at her. "So go on," he said, reaching out to poke her middle. "What are you going to do?"

Elissa sighed and reached over to the bedside table for her book _"Spirit Warrior: Fade spirits and techniques for the non-mage."_ It was one they had "borrowed" from Weisshaupt – admittedly, perhaps not the best one to be carrying around in Orlais, the home of the Chantry and the Templars, but there was no reason for them to bother Elissa in the first place and what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. "I'll probably go to Highever first," she admitted. "You're coming with, by the way."

"Yes ser!" Darrian said, coupled with a mock salute. "What about the Warden-Commander position?"

"It can wait," Elissa said grumpily. "It's not going anywhere. Besides, I ought to go to Highever to get yelled at by my brother. Then to Denerim to see where the others are at and mayhap get yelled at by them as well." Darrian knew that by 'others' she meant her travelling companions from the Blight. "S'pose I ought to see the Queen while I'm there. Make sure she hasn't ruined the place."

"Well don't you move in august company?"

"Shut up. And then of course the Alienage – make sure your kinsfolk got home okay. And so Shianni can yell at you the same way Fergus will yell at me."

"Thanks. You're so generous," Darrian said sarcastically, sitting back onto his knees. "How's the shoulder holding up?"

"I'd say it's back to normal. Or as normal as it probably ever will be." Elissa rotated it experimentally. "Fiona's a good healer. And about the only person at Weisshaupt who was approachable and you could get a straight answer from."

"Aside from the First Warden," Darrian pointed out. Elissa shook her head

"He was only being approachable because I'm useful to him. I have the ability to make the Wardens a solid presence in Ferelden again and therefore one less country outside of the Anderfels to worry about."

Darrian paused thoughtfully, leaning back on his heels and reaching back to scratch Madoc's back. "So when are we going to... hey, is that a hawk on the windowsill?"

Elissa looked up from her book at the dark-feathered bird of prey on her windowsill. She slipped her bookmark back in between the pages and shut the book with a soft snap. Madoc looked up and cocked his head at the newcomer, his ears pricked. "Well," Elissa said quietly. "This is a surprise. Come in if you're coming then."

Darrian looked at Elissa as if she'd gone mad as she stood up and walked to the window. The hawk hopped off the ledge and onto the floor and Elissa shut the window shutters.

There was a rustling of power and the edges of the hawk seemed to blur and shimmer. In a matter of seconds, the bird had turned into a woman and Darrian had fallen off the bed.

"Andraste's tits!" he swore, looking up at the dark-haired mage in standing where the bird was, wearing a deep red floor length dress. Her dark hair was bound in a tight bun with gold pins and a heavy gold choker was clasped about her neck. Dainty gold trimmed shoes were just visible beneath the hem of the dress. "How did you...? What in the...? Elissa, have you been drugging me or something?"

The mage eyed Darrian with narrowed golden eyes. "Another suspicious dim-witted one? Your judge of character hasn't improved much. Though I'd never thought you'd be one to take an elf to your bed."

Darrian's raised an eyebrow. "Well, excuse me for not being entirely prepared for a shapeshifter in my bedroom. I'll make sure to keep the windows shut the next time we're in Orlais."

"Plus he's not sharing my bed," Elissa added.

"Not in the sexual sense anyway," Darrian added, picking himself off the floor and dusting off his jerkin and leather trousers.

"Hm. Shame to let such a pretty one go to waste."

"Morrigan," Elissa said with a sigh, reaching up to squeeze the bridge of her nose. "I assume you have a reason in coming here. I had thought never to see you again, especially after our last... discussion."

Morrigan turned to Elissa and looked her up and down, noting the light tan to the Ferelden's once pale skin and the shine in her dark hair (which, judging from the extra whirl in the spiral of her bound braids at the base of her neck, had gotten a lot longer). "You are looking well my friend. Travelling the warmer parts of Thedas has done you some good, I think." Madoc hopped off the bed to sit at Morrigan's feet. He looked up at Morrigan expectantly and gave a short happy bark. "Yes, yes, you too," Morrigan said with a weary sigh. She reached down and patted Madoc's head quickly.

"'My friend'?" Elissa queried, folding her arms and eyeing Morrigan warily. "The last time we spoke it was hardly on such good terms."

"I..." Morrigan looked hesitant and her eyes flickered to Darrian.

Elissa sighed. "Darrian, would you take Madoc for a walk for a bit? Ten minutes at most. Come back if there's any trouble."

Darrian looked like he wanted to object but acquiesced to Elissa's request. He whistled and Madoc jumped to his heels. "Come on boy," he said, "let the ladies have their catch-up natter, hm?" Darrian grabbed the room key from the side table and opened the door, letting Madoc out into the corridor before following shutting the door behind him.

Silence reigned following the elf's exit. Elissa said nothing, and wasn't going to be the one to start this conversation. It was not her that had left, after all.

Morrigan made a frustrated huffing sound, but it appeared to be directed more at herself than Elissa. "I was foolish. Truly. I should have known that you wouldn't have agreed to such a thing – why, I know not, even though I have had time to ponder it. Why did you turn it down? Did you not trust me?" The old Morrigan slipped back then, control she had apparently learnt in Orlais slipping away, her eyes flashing angrily. "Was your talk of friendship and trust all lies?"

Elissa looked at Morrigan in the eyes squarely, blue meeting gold, and sighed, letting her arms drop to her side. She walked over to the bed and sat down on it heavily.

"The... ritual. Several things made me uneasy. Firstly, that the creation of a child... a tainted powerful child, a tainted powerful child with the soul of an Old God – you said yourself that it would be a beacon for the Archdemon. If it was a beacon for the Archdemon then what if it became a beacon for darkspawn? An Old God reborn – I agreed with you when you said some things should be preserved in this world, but such a thing has too much power, too much _risk_."

Elissa looked up at Morrigan, who was avoiding her gaze. She sighed and continued. "Secondly, even if you did have this child and could protect it from the lure of the taint, what of Flemeth? You said yourself that your mother, though forced from her current mortal body, was strong enough to linger as a spirit until she found a new vessel. I know you said you would protect yourself from her but what if you couldn't? Flemeth, Witch of the Wilds, the Woman of Many Years, shapeshifter extraordinaire – what if she managed to overpower you and gained control of _that_ child?

"Thirdly, you said your mother sent you for that purpose, to capture the soul of an Old God. But we learnt that your mother never did anything for anyone else, even sacrificing her own daughters to prolong her life. She wanted that child, and she would have sought you and the child. Truly, it was not you that I did not trust but your mother."

Elissa sighed again, pushing a stray hand of hair behind her ear. "Finally, what you asked of me was not mine to give. Had it been in my power – my _personal_ power - to give you a child I probably would have done. As it was, you needed Alistair. His body was not mine to give you."

"And now it's not here at all," Morrigan commented callously.

Elissa glared at the witch. "What, and you think I wanted it this way?" she snapped.

"Would you have changed your mind? Knowing what you know now?"

"Would you have even offered?" Elissa countered.

Morrigan's lips drew into a tight line. "I would have told you together," she conceded. "Got you to fetch Alistair, and told you together. That way he would have been able to make the decision."

Elissa laughed softly, but the sound was bitter. "The look on his face would have been a picture, that's for sure." She paused and met Morrigan's eyes. "In answer to your question, no I wouldn't have changed my mind."

"Not at all?"

"No. I would have changed my battle plan later, though."

"Oh?"

"Mmhmm. Left Alistair at the gate and taken Sten instead."

Morrigan huffed and walked over to sit beside Elissa on the bed, her shoes making sharp tapping noises on the wooden floor. "So you really had resigned yourself to die. I never wanted to believe it."

Elissa didn't want to talk about that battle anymore so attempted to change the subject. "Why Orlais, my dear Morrigan?" Elissa asked.

"Because it's the only country that borders Ferelden?"

Elissa looked sidelong at the witch. "But you're a mage and a shapeshifter – don't tell me you couldn't have been able to fly across the Waking Sea. Plus, crossing the Frostbacks takes longer than a sea voyage... It's been over a year since the Blight ended... have you really been here all this time?"

"Most of it, yes."

Elissa looked at Morrigan more closely and grinned. "You were listening to Leliana's stories weren't you? About dresses and jewellery and -," Elissa looked down at Morrigan's prettily dressed feet and laughed. "Fancy shoes!"

Morrigan stretched her legs to show off her gold trimmed shoes with tapered heels. "I thought the bard was exaggerating. I was pleasantly surprised to find out she wasn't. Oh, except I'd quite happily do without the din from that forsaken Chant day and night - it is ridiculously annoying, but one gets used to it I suppose."

"So what _are_ you doing here? Or was it simply to satisfy your curiosity?"

"Must there be any other reason?"

"Curiosity is not enough for you to hang around people all the time. And nobles, no less, judging from the quality of your dress. They're the worst examples of humanity."

"And also the most interesting," Morrigan pointed out. "They're impossible to fathom! The constant bickering, the saying one thing to one person's face and saying something else as soon as they've walked away – truly the oddest thing! Why, I can't understand it at all, but the constant battle using deceit and rumour is so _entertaining_!"

Elissa laughed. "You would like that part of politics. But who would have thought it? Morrigan, Witch of the Wilds, a courtier! I take it your social interactions have improved somewhat?"

"Evidently, since they have yet to turf me out onto the street."

"And what of your magic?"

"Certain members of the court are... aware of it."

"Oh? And how have you managed to keep the Templars at bay?"

"One of the empress' bards was kind enough to forge Circle of Magi documents for me. I am, as far as they are aware, a mage from Tevinter. The rising tensions between the two different Chantries means that no one will be willing to try and verify that information – nor will the Tevinter Templars be quite so eager to co-operate."

"And should they find out the truth?"

"Then my stay in Orlais is over," Morrigan said with a shrug. "I will likely tire of the place before then."

"Believe me, if you enjoy court politics as much as you appear to, you will be entertained for a while longer."

"You are probably right," Morrigan conceded. Silence fell between them and Morrigan's eyes were drawn to the two backpacks propped against the wall, reminding her of Elissa's companion. "So who is the elf?"

"Darrian? He's a Grey Warden – my first recruit," Elissa added, looking a little smug.

"Skilled then?"

"Better than Leliana at locks and traps and almost as good with a bow. Virtually silent when he takes a step. Not too shabby with a pair of blades either. I met him in Minrathous – he was one of the elves Loghain had sold in to slavery," she added by way of explanation. Morrigan snorted.

"Ever the altruistic one."

Elissa shrugged. "I like to think equal parts altruistic and pragmatic. He was technically a murderer."

"'Technically'?"

"Well there were some severely mitigating circumstances."

"Self defence?"

"Family defence," Elissa amended, and briefly relayed the story Darrian had told her.

"And do you believe him?"

"Well it _would_ explain why Vaughan wasn't about Denerim all the time we were there – and the riots from the Alienage. Plus the few times I've had the _pleasure_," she said sarcastically, "of Vaughan's company at court I can safely confirm he is – was – a veritable slimeball. He likely deserved whatever it was Darrian dealt him." Elissa shrugged. "No matter. He's a Warden now – the past has little bearing on his future."

"And what future might that be?"

"Whatever he makes of it," Elissa said cryptically. She smirked at the annoyed scowl that flitted across Morrigan's face. "He travels with me for now, but I don't know what I am going to do yet. I may take up the Warden-Commander post, I may not. Mayhap I'll stay in Highever and help my brother for a time. Or maybe I'll just keep travelling."

Morrigan paused and regarded Elissa closely. "Something's changed in you, sister. You were always so careful, always planning ahead, playing your cards carefully and mapping out each week towards your goal. Now you're just..."

"Reckless?" Elissa supplied with a smirk.

"I was going to say aimless, but once upon a time the two were the same thing for you."

Elissa shrugged. "Perhaps. People change, Morrigan - I'm sure you've noticed that much."

Morrigan was about to open her mouth to argue when the sound of the key scraping in the lock interrupted her. Darrian popped his head around the door. "Permission to enter?" he said with a cheeky grin.

Elissa snorted. "Permission granted. Where's Madoc?"

"Right here," Darrian said, opening the door further to let the mabari in. Madoc barked happily and wagged his stump of a tail. Morrigan rolled her eyes.

"People may change but that hound never will."

Madoc whined and cocked his head, confused at Morrigan's comment. Elissa laughed.

"That's a sort of compliment I guess, Mad. Because I love you the way you are and I hope you never change."

Madoc barked happily and trotted around the bed to rest his head on Elissa's lap, his mistress reaching out to scratch his back fondly. Morrigan stood up from the bed and brushed the rumples out of her dress. "Well, I shall leave you be. For what it is worth, my friend, I am sorry for not being there with you for the final onslaught. I daresay it was a battle to remember."

"No need to apologise, Morrigan," Elissa said as the witch's outline shimmered and changed into the hawk shape she arrived in. Morrigan hopped onto the window ledge and looked at Elissa with a tilted head. "It was my choice – my fault," she added with a sigh. "Fare you well, my friend – should you ever tire of Orlais, know wherever I am you will be welcome."

Morrigan shook out her wings and feathers in response and bobbed in as near a thing to a nod as her bird form could muster before taking off into the darkening evening sky.

"So that was one of your companions during the Blight, huh?" Darrian said, flopping backwards onto the bed. "What did she want?"

"Answers," Elissa replied absently, looking out of the window.

Darrian gave Elissa a quizzical look. "Were they what she wanted?"

"I guess so," Elissa said with a shrug, pushing Madoc's head off her lap and swinging her legs onto the bed, reclining against the pillows. "She didn't zap me, so I can't have annoyed her too much."

"Fair enough. So!" he said, stretching his arms and putting his hands behind his head. "Where are we off to now? I don't know about you but I've had enough of these _Orlesians_. They're almost as bad as Tevinters, seriously!"

Elissa grinned and swung her legs up onto the bed, Madoc hopping up besides her. "Tomorrow we hit the Highway again and follow it South." She looked across at Darrian with a smile. "I've been travelling long enough. It's time to go home."

x.x.x.x

_*sigh* so my exams are over and hopefully I haven't flunked them – so fingers crossed this gets updated a little faster than before lol! Hope you're enjoying it so far (I cannot _wait_ to get Elissa back in Ferelden – booyah!) and if you have a minute please review! They really make my day :D :D :D_


	6. Chapter 5: West Hill

**Chapter Five: West Hill**

"Darrian."

"Nnnnngghh..."

"Darrian." The elf felt someone grab his ankle and give his leg a shake.

"Mmppf... five more minutes..."

"Tchah, in five minutes you'll miss it!"

Darrian was almost too sleepy to be curious – but only almost. "Miss what?"

"Get your ass out of your bed roll and come and see."

"Urrgh..." Darrian sat up, his black hair stuck up at every angle. Elissa was crouching at the tent flap, dressed and armoured and _smiling_. The bitch.

"How are you so _chipper_?" Darrian grumbled. "The sun's not even up yet!"

"Which is why I woke you up. Come onnnnn!" she said, grabbing his leg to give it another shake. "Get dressed. You'll want to see this."

"Alright, alright..." Darrian wriggled out from under the covers and pulled on his armour, cursing with every other breath at the biting cold in the air. Madoc quickly commandeered Darrian's still-warm bedroll and curled up to snooze once more.

They had left Orlais and headed south, as planned, but their timing couldn't have been worse for travelling: by the time they reached the border the passes over the Frostbacks were unuseable. They spent the winter with the small detachment of Wardens in Halamshiral, where Elissa gleaned some information on the situation in Amaranthine. Apparently the darkspawn were not retreating to the Deep Roads as was supposedly normal and causing more trouble than expected.

He couldn't really blame Elissa for wanting to return to Ferelden as soon as the passes had thawed even the slightest bit. As soon as the first scout crossed the Frostbacks from Ferelden, Elissa declared it was time to go.

It was still bloody cold though.

Darrian rubbed his bleary eyes and stepped out of the tent, his studded leather boots crunching on the snowy ground. They had set their tent up in the shelter of a crag just off the corner of the main mountain road. The road was downhill from here, with sheer cliff drops on the edge of the road.

Elissa was standing on a piled formation of rocks at the road's edge, looking out over the view in front of her. "Come up here," she said, gesturing to Darrian.

The elf clambered up the rocks beside her and sat on the edge, his legs dangling over the drop below. He whistled. "That's a long way down," he commented.

"But look at that view," Elissa said.

"That's..." Darrian started. "That's Ferelden?"

"Yep."

"Wow..." he breathed.

The sun was just rising over the hilled horizon, bathing the landscape before them in soft morning light. The sky was near enough clear but for the tendrils of dawn mist clinging to the mountaintop allowing the two Wardens to see for miles. The roads were winding lines through a patchwork of fields and forests, dotted with small squares of roofs of settlements. Darrian, who had never been out of Denerim before being sold, was in awe. How had he not known how _big_ Ferelden was?

Elissa looked down at her companion and grinned, sitting down next to him. "See there?" she said, pointing. "That's Lake Calenhad. And that's the Circle Tower, right on the north end of the lake. The plains beyond the lake are the Bannorn. You can't see much of Redcliffe from this angle, the Red Hills are in the way, but you can see the roads leading up to the village. That swath of green to the distance is the Brecilian Forest." Elissa sighed happily and looked northwards. "There's the sea port of Waking Seas, and that river and headland further east? That's West Hill. Highever's hidden in that mountain range beyond West Hill..." she trailed off wistfully and smiled.

"Where's Denerim?"

"Far to the east, beyond the Bannorn. We won't be able to see it from here." Elissa leant back on her arms and let the dawn sunlight wash over her face. "This is Ferelden."

"Home," Darrian said softly. Elissa nodded in agreement and sighed. 

"We're home."

x.x.x

The roads to West Hill were relatively clear, save for the usual odd troupe of bandits. Both Elissa and Darrian were wearing thick cloaks to ward against the spring rains and try and cover the fact that they were well equipped. That didn't seem to stop the bandits, however.

"Maker's breath," Darrian said, retrieving some of his arrows from a bandit's corpse. "Perhaps we should go about with our weapons on show. It might deter them."

"Hm, if only it were that easy," Elissa said, cleaning off Starfang. "Some of them see weapons as an invitation for a fight."

"I guess," Darrian said, riffling through the pockets of the dead man at his feet. "Oh hello... this one must have been the leader," he said, lifting out the pouch and peering inside. "A good handful of sovereigns in there."

"Anyone would think we were penniless and that we didn't spend all winter doing Chanter's work in Halamshiral, the way you scavenge."

"Waste not, want not, that's what I always say," Darrian countered, pocketing the pouch.

"Well, true enough I suppose..." Elissa shrugged. "Come on. If we keep a good pace we should be able to make West Hill in an hour or two."

"Just in time for dinner. Excellent!" Elissa snorted with laughter at Darrian's enthusiasm - his appetite was fairly hearty before he took the Joining, but adding the taint-hunger to it made it seem like the elf's life revolved around mealtimes.

They were only a few miles from West Hill when Elissa started to feel a familiar hum through her blood. She met Darrian's eye and the elf nodded. "My Warden senses are tingling," he said, wiggling his fingers.

Elissa resisted the urge to laugh at Darrian's colloquial name for sensing darkspawn. Darrian had only encountered darkspawn two or three times since he Joined, but he had rapidly tuned in and accommodated the sensation. "Quickly. They're not far."

The two Wardens set off at a steady run, Madoc at their heels. The shadowy silhouette of West Hill loomed at the end of the road, and darkspawn were swarming the fields outside of the city.

The group of darkspawn was not particular organised by Blight standards, but still more intelligent that the typical Blight-free groups. There were perhaps thirty in total, including two ogres and four alphas.

The gates to the city were shut, but a group of a dozen people were stranded outside the gates as the darkspawn bore down upon them.

The city guard were on the battlements, the archers firing upon the darkspawn with little effect. Elissa quickly scanned the area and made her decision.

"Darrian," she said, pointing towards a hill overlooking the field, "get to that higher ground. Pick off any that go for the civilians." The elf nodded and headed off at a run, and Elissa looked down at her faithful hound. "Madoc, round 'em up," she said with a smirk. "Guard the refugees and try and drive the spawn to me." The dog barked in response and sprinted off. Elissa closed the gap between her and the group and shrugged her cloak off her shoulders. The darkspawn presence was singing through her blood and she latched on to it, willing the darkspawn to notice her and not the fleeing villagers. She brought the fingers of one hand to her lips and let out a sharp, piercing whistle (a trick that her father taught her, much to her mother's dismay.)

One by one the alphas turned to the source of the noise and source of their shared taint. The ogre then followed, its lumbering steps shaking the earth beneath Elissa's feet.

Arrows whistled through the air as Darrian expertly achieved what the guard archers couldn't, killing darkspawn with swiftly and precisely aimed attacks. Elissa heard Madoc's war howl as the mabari stood his ground between the darkspawn and the refugees. The Cousland stepped forward towards the oncoming rabble and unsheathed her blades from her back, anticipation and adrenalin surging through her.

Truly, she enjoyed this far more than she ought to.

She threw herself at her assailants with a vicious, blood-curdling cry, and set about slaying her sworn foes. Hurlock and genlock alike fell at her hand, her swords arcing through the air in practiced motions, blood showering the ground around her. Poorly swung darkspawn blades glanced off her armour, but she felt a stinging sensation along her left shoulder – one had clearly got past her guard and splintmail, but not enough to stop her flow. She ignored it, and pressed on.

One of the alphas swung his massive axe at her head but fell backwards with a gurgle, an arrow lodge in the juncture of its neck between a chink in its armour. A second was impaled on one of Elissa's blades and its head severed cleanly with the other; the third fell as the Cousland spun in a whirlwind. Elissa ducked to avoid a vicious swing from the remaining alpha in the fray and slashed at its legs. The beast fell to the floor with a scream, unable to move. She would finish it off later – for now, there was the ogre to deal with.

With the alphas gone, the grunts were scattering, falling to Darrian's arrows from the higher ground and allowing Elissa to focus on the lumbering ogre. It was clearly an old one, bearing scars from previous skirmishes or battles with its own kind in the Deep Roads. Elissa dodged one of its lunging fists and jumped to avoid the shock of the shaking earth as it pounded its hands on the ground angrily.

As the ogre recovered from its furious onslaught, Elissa spied her opening and dashed forward with a shout. She slashed down then up across the ogre's chest, causing it to stumble backwards, then leapt in the air, one foot aiding in the ogre's fall to the floor. She stabbed it in the neck quickly before it could recover and throw her off, blood coating her arms.

Elissa felt the darkspawn presence in her blood fading as Darrian and Madoc picked off the remaining stragglers. Elissa hopped off the ogre's corpse and quickly headed over to her hound, gesturing to Darrian on the hill to come down. She knelt down and checked Madoc over, who was panting following his exertions, and the dog gave an exhilarated, post-battle victory bark.

"Is he hurt?" Darrian asked, strapping his bow to his back again.

"No, he seems okay. Aren't you boy?" Madoc yipped happily and wagged his stumpy tail. "What about you?" she added, standing up and turning to the rogue.

Darrian made a show of looking himself over and checking his limbs. "Everything where it should be and in one piece. More than I can say for you, mind," he said, nodding to Elissa's arm.

Elissa looked at her offhand shoulder. "Just a scratch," she said, looking at the cut that ran down the back of her arm from the top of her shoulder to her elbow. "Not poisoned, a clean cut for once. I'll clear it up once we find out what's going on."

"That's... not normal, is it? A group this large on the surface without a Blight?"

"No. Not supposed to be, anyway. Especially with that many alphas – nice shot on the big one by the way – they are, based on the extensive reports preserved at Weisshaupt, only regular during Blights. It seems the piecemeal reports we had in Halamshiral were right – things haven't settled down here as quickly as they should have." Elissa readjusted her splintmail and pushed some stray strands of hair back behind her ears. "Come on. I don't know about you but I'm starving now."

They made their way to the city gates and the refugees still waiting outside the gates.

"Maker's breath, man!" she heard one of the men exclaim angrily. "Use your eyes! The darkspawn are gone now, let us in!"

"Captain's orders," came the reply from the open hatch in the door. "None of you are to be allowed in case of corruption. We cannot risk granting you entry to the city."

"But none of us are corrupted!"

"We can't know that."

"Hold," Elissa said, stepping forward and resting a calming hand on the man's shoulder. "The guard cannot be asked to go against his orders. Be thankful he is diligent in his duties." What little of the man's face that could be seen beneath his helmet and through the hatch flushed proudly. "However, ser, if you would bring your commanding officer to see me I would greatly appreciate it." Elissa smiled warmly as the man behind the door stuttered in agreement and shut the hatch.

The refugee man was still disgruntled. "Bloody fool! All it takes is a pretty face – begging your pardon, milady," he added hastily. Elissa gave the man a small smile.

"I can understand your frustrations but the captain's fears of the corruption disease are potentially valid. Are any of you wounded?"

"Y-yes..." the man stammered, "my eldest son. He's over here..." The farmer led Elissa and Darrian to where his son was resting in the back of one of the wagons, his arm heavily bandaged and being tended by an older woman who, judging from the similar coloured hair and features, was his mother. His skin was very pale and sweat ran down his brow. Elissa felt her heart sink – she could feel the poison in him. She reached over and put a hand on his burning forehead.

"When was he bitten?" she asked the father.

"The day before yesterday," the farmer answered. "He fought off a few stragglers that had broken into the barn... wait..." The farmer swallowed nervously. "How did you know he was bitten?"

Elissa straightened and was about to break the bad news to the father when Darrian called her over. The captain was waiting. "I'll be but a moment," Elissa said. "Excuse me."

Darrian was standing near the door hatch, looking very angry. He leant in to Elissa and quietly whispered "the man's an asshole," to her.

Elissa sighed. _Oh joy_, she thought sarcastically, stepping to the open hatch and peering through.

"Who are you? What do you want?" The captain was a grizzled man in his mid-forties, clearly one that had seen a lot of trouble and had very little patience. With his remit as West Hill, Elissa could imagine that his no-nonsense attitude had its benefits – the damage done to the arling during the rebel was horrendous, and spawned an area (when not littered with darkspawn) that was rife with bandits. Nevertheless, Elissa had very little time for the narrow-minded – especially the narrow-minded that were endangering others as a result.

"My name is Elissa, and my companion is Darrian. We are Grey Wardens, passing through, and were hoping to rest and restock in West Hill."

The captain laughed. "Grey Wardens? You're not Orlesian."

"Because I am a native Ferelden, born and bred," Elissa said.

The captain snorted. "Then if you're Grey Wardens you better prove it. Only ones I've heard about are Orlesian."

Elissa gritted her teeth and bit back a scathing reply. Darrian, however, wasn't so restrained. "We just decimated a band of darkspawn in a matter of minutes to save these people and probably some of your guards sorry asses and you question who we are?"

"Silence, knife-ears, I'll not have any backchat from you!"

"Do **not** speak to my second like that again," Elissa ground out darkly. "Or I will personally see that you regret it."

"Threatening me isn't going to get you entry, sugar," the captain sneered.

"You would do well to open the gates and admit her, Stevens," a commanding female voice rang out. The captain turned towards the source of the voice behind him. "Arl Wulff will not be best pleased to hear that you made life difficult for the Hero of Ferelden."

Elissa grinned at the newcomer who had just stepped down the stairs from the battlements. "It is good to see you well, Bann Alfstanna," she said.

The young Bann of Waking Seas returned Elissa's smile. "Likewise. Come now, Captain Stevens, let the Wardens in. You ought to be at least a little more respectful since they no doubt saved the lives of some of your men."

The captain grunted. "Very well. What of the refugees?" the captain said, turning back to the hatch. "Are any of them sick?"

"Just the one," Elissa admitted quietly. She sighed. "I will deal with him and his family now. The rest are clean."

"Fine. Open the gates! I expect you to keep your blades to yourselves," the captain growled out. "I'll not tolerate brawling in my city."

Elissa was about to pass comment about his assumptions about Grey Wardens, but given that her time in Denerim was often interspersed with violence (though she instigated none of it) she could just about understand his wariness. "Understood. My thanks, Captain."

The refugees filed in through the now open gates, but Elissa stopped the farmer and his wife and the wagon bearing their injured son. "I cannot let him in the city," Elissa said to the father sadly. She waited until the rest of the refugees were out of earshot before continuing. "He is the only one bearing the corruption sickness," she continued, trying to ignore the soft cry of despair from the mother. "While he is not directly contagious he is still a danger."

"I don't understand," the father said, his voice thick with emotion. "How did you know he was bitten?"

"The taint disease is not airborne, like influenza or smallpox. It's a poison, transmitted through extended contact with a blighted area, ingestion of fluids or infected wounds. The Blight is over, so the darkspawn should not be in enough numbers to disease the land or water sources meaning your son had to have sustained a direct wound from a darkspawn." Elissa swallowed away the tightness in her throat. "There is no cure. I am sorry," she said.

"So he's just going to die?" the man choked out, his eyes welling up. The mother let out a small sob. "Oh, my boy... my son..."

Elissa braced herself for the worst part. "It will be better if he is delivered now," she said quietly to the parents. "Before the pain and poison changes him. If you wish it, I will take the responsibility. Trust me when I say you do not want to know what will happen if it is left unchecked," she added, seeing the father open his mouth to protest. "I am truly sorry."

The farmer looked at Elissa directly in the eyes and his shoulders slumped, accepting that she was not lying. "I do not want to ask such a thing of you but... Warden, I hope you will not think any less of me, for though I know he suffers I still cannot bring myself to kill my own son."

The wife, desperately trying to hold back her sobs, let out a small wail. Tears flooded down her face and Elissa forced herself not to look. _Maker__ help me_, she thought. She tried to fill her head with her usual mantra of _duty first_ but amongst it she couldn't help but think that her time away had left her very out of practice when dealing with difficult decisions. "Of course not," she said. "Nor would I expect you to. Darrian," she called to her companion, "would you kindly find the Chantry in the city and ask them to make the relevant preparations for a service please?"

Darrian nodded stiffly and vanished through the gates. Elissa reached out and put her hand on the farmer's shoulder, who was supporting his grieving wife. "Go to the Chantry," she said, "I will meet you there and have the guards bring your belongings."

The farmer nodded stiffly and led his wife towards the city. They had gone a few steps when Elissa's voice stopped them.

"What is his name?" she said. She didn't turn towards them, because she couldn't.

"Tallin," the man replied quietly. "He name is Tallin."

Elissa nodded once, stiffly, and strode up to the wagon. She lifted the feverish young man from the cart and laid him on the ground, out of sight of the walls and the city. He mumbled slightly and briefly opened his eyes.

"Mother," he tried calling out. "Where is she?"

"She is safe," Elissa replied. "Your father too. They made it to West Hill and are safe. You did well, Tallin."

The young man managed a small sigh of relief which quickly dissolved into ragged coughing and a moan of pain. "The voices," he mumbled. "They won't stop. Maker... make them be quiet..."

Elissa bowed her head and unsheathed her dagger from her waist. His eyes flickered shut again as he slipped into unconsciousness once more. _Maker forgive me_, Elissa thought as she slipped the blade between the boy's ribs and up to his heart.

x.x.x

The evening's funeral service was swift but tactful, and Elissa had regained enough courage to be able to look both grieving parents in the eyes (helped by the fact that she was clean of all blood, hers, the boy's and the darkspawn's, thanks to the Chantry allowing her to bathe in their living quarters and one of the Sister's bandaging her wound). The mother clearly blamed Elissa for the death of her son while the father was more accepting of the situation. Thankfully neither quizzed her on the further potential effects of the darkspawn taint – she didn't think she'd be able to find appropriate words to sensitively say "he would become one of them."

Madoc, who had been waiting outside, barked happily as they approached and quickly went to Elissa's heel. The doors to the Chantry swung shut behind them and Darrian's stomach chose that moment to make a protest. Elissa smirked. "Hungry?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. Pub?"

Elissa nodded. "Pub," she agreed. Hopefully one with a good wine... she could do with a glass... or four.

They rounded the corner of the Chantry walls to the Market Square and Elissa resisted a groan. Clearly, word had got out about her arrival, and a crowd had gathered in the square, waiting for a glimpse of her.

"There she is!"

"The Hero of Ferelden!"

"Bollocks," Elissa muttered. Darrian started to laugh but it was cut short when Elissa jabbed him in the side.

"I don't know what you're laughing about, they're standing between us and the pub!"

"Ah... bugger," Darrian conceded, rubbing his bruising side.

"Psst! Warden! Over here!"

Elissa both looked over to the shadows in an alley from where an armoured hand was gesturing to them. "There's a way out here," said the man's voice. "Alfstanna said you might run into some bother."

Elissa didn't need asking twice. She slipped into the darkness of the alleyway, Darrian and Madoc not far behind. The man, dressed in heavy armour, led the way left and right through the network of alleys until they reached a back door. Judging from the noise from inside the building and the lingering smell of ale, they were at the servant's entrance of an inn.

The man pushed the door open, bathing the shadowy alley in the light from inside. Elissa's mouth dropped open. "It's... Irminric, isn't it? The Templar from the Denerim dungeons?"

Irminric smiled. "The very same. I'm surprised you remember me."

"I'm surprised _you_ remember me," Elissa said in disbelief. "You... were not exactly in a particularly lucid state at the time. No offence intended."

Irminric let out a low laugh. "None taken – because you were right. I was a sorry mess – but let's get you inside before we catch up. Alfstanna is waiting to see you."

Irminric led them through the narrow corridor and through an archway into what Elissa assumed was one of the private back rooms of the inn. Alfstanna was leaning back on a chair, her legs propped up on the table. When Elissa entered, Darrian and Madoc in tow, Alfstanna quickly swung her legs to the floor and stood up, the chair falling back on all of its legs with a small bang.

"Elissa!" Alfstanna exclaimed, folding the Cousland in a brief embrace. "Good that you have time to stop by after the fiasco at the gate. I apologise on behalf of Arl Wulff for Captain Stevens – he's a trying man at the best of times."

Elissa grinned. "No worries, Bann Alfstanna – his fears were somewhat justified."

"But his questioning that you were a Grey Warden wasn't," Alfstanna said with a sigh, sitting back down at the table. Elissa and Irminric joined her, and Madoc wriggled between their legs to lie under the table.

"I'm going to order some food," Darrian said, gesturing towards the bar. "Can I get anyone anything else?"

Alfstanna and Irminric shook their heads but Elissa sighed wistfully. "I don't know," she said, "I don't care. Anything that masquerades as edible. And a bottle of red – either a Highever or Antivan vintage, whichever." Elissa looked embarrassed when she turned back to Alfstanna as Darrian left. "Apologies for my manners, but Darrian and I haven't eaten since midday – and we weren't expecting darkspawn at the end of it either."

Alfstanna shook her head. "No need to apologise. Now," she said, clasping her hands together. "You are on your way home, yes? Fergus will be so glad to see you! He's been ever so worried."

Elissa smiled, warmed by the Bann's enthusiasm, but she paused, re-evaluating Alfstanna's tone and words in her head. "'Fergus', is it?" she inquired with a smirk. Alfstanna, who was rarely so easily flustered, felt a blush rise in her cheeks and she cleared her throat.

"Well, the teryn doesn't like to stand on ceremony..." she started.

"That as may be, but I thought _you_ were a stickler for the rules," Elissa replied.

Irminric laughed as his sister blushed and clapped her on the back. "Face it, Alfstanna, you're only good at bluffing when it comes to politics, not when it comes to family."

Alfstanna fumbled. "But... well... Fergus wanted to tell you himself," she finished limply.

Elissa grinned at the Bann. "So... you are courting then? And mayhap more?" Elissa laughed as Alfstanna's flush deepened.

"Nothing's official yet... and it's all on the quiet," she admitted ruefully. "I cannot abandon my duties at Waking Seas just yet, but my nephew comes of age in a few months and he is more than capable to manage the bannorn. We intend to announce our intentions when I step down."

Elissa thought her grin might split her face in two. "That's wonderful news! When did this start then?"

"Just before the summer assizes in Highever. I'd arrived early and Fergus and I went hunting... then went back for a few drinks in the study and well..." Alfstanna flushed. "One thing led to another. Strange how easy it was to go from friends to more," she mused aloud.

"Not so strange," Elissa said, thinking briefly of the various lovers she had had in the past. "Well now I definitely cannot wait to see him. I've been away too long."

Alfstanna reached across the table and gave Elissa's wrist a reassuring squeeze. "I wish I could go with you just to see his face when you arrive back. Alas, I am needed back in Waking Seas before the Landsmeet – my visit here was only to help Wulff with some of his holders."

Irminric snorted. "Never in my life have I met such ignorant fools. It's as if their whole life is worthless unless they are complaining."

"What brings you to West Hill then, Irminric?" Elissa asked, remembering the question she wanted to ask of him earlier. "Have you moved bases?" As Elissa recalled, Irminric was stationed in Nettlemoors, south of Lake Calenhad docks.

"Ah... not exactly," Irminric looked a little sheepish. "I'm not a Templar anymore."

"What?" Elissa looked shocked. "The Chantry let you leave? How?"

"Well it wasn't _entirely_ my choice," Irminric admitted. "But after the fiasco with that maleficar – Jorran? Jowern?"

"Jowan," Elissa corrected.

"Yes, that was it... how did you know that?"

Elissa waved him off. "Long story. Some other time, maybe."

"Yes well," Irminric eyed Elissa a bit suspiciously for a brief moment but continued. "When you found me in that cell – what little I can remember of being in there anyway – I was in a fair state. I was down there for around seven or eight months as I recall and the withdrawal... well, the Grand Cleric deemed it unsafe for me to be put back onto the lyrium and instead helped me see it through."

"That was... generous of her," Elissa admitted grudgingly. When she found out from Alistair about the Chantry's controls, she was disgusted. And after meeting some particular irksome and almost vindictive Revered Mothers on her travels her faith in the Chantry system was near enough diminished.

Irminric made a noise of assent. "It was... though it's all rather hush-hush as you can imagine. Can't have word getting out that lyrium addiction is curable after all, but I can't go back to being a Templar with my newly developed lyrium resistance."

"But you can still use templar talents without lyrium," Elissa said.

"True enough, but it would look odd if I wasn't taking the lyrium with the others each morning." Irminric sighed. "To be quite honest I think the only reason they let me live was because I'm Alfstanna's brother and my disappearance wouldn't go without notice."

"Irminric!" Alfstanna exclaimed. "Don't say such things!"

Elissa nodded gravely. "I am inclined to agree with him. The Chantry have many secrets that they love to keep – not to mention enough skeletons in their closet to ruin them should the public find out. When Alistair was recruited as an initiate, the Grand Cleric didn't want to let him go. Duncan – the Warden Commander at the time," she added, spotting the siblings' blank looks, "was forced to conscript and Alistair was made to promise not divulge any 'secrets'." Elissa snorted. "As you can probably tell from my knowledge of the way things are run, that did not last very long."

"How much did he tell you?" Irminric asked.

"Tell me? Or show me?" Elissa shrugged. "As I said, you don't need lyrium to employ the talents. They come in handy when dealing with the darkspawn spellcasters."

The conversation was stopped momentarily when Darrian breezed into the room, two bottles of wine held by their necks in one hand and four glasses by their stems in the other. He laid the glasses carefully on the table and brandished both bottles of wine, adjusting his hold do his grasp was about the base of the bottle. "Which first, my lady," he said with a teasing grin, "the Highever 22 or the Antivan 28? Food's on its way, don't worry," he said, answering Elissa's question before she had a chance to answer it. "Besides, I'd wager that the Highever beauty is liquid food in itself," he added.

"For an Alienage elf, you are quite the connoisseur, Master Tabris. Darrian grinned and slid into the chair next to Elissa.

"I had my sources of fine wines," he said.

"Honestly or dishonestly appropriated?"

"Honestly appropriated by me. I had no idea of their previous origins."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Elissa remarked dryly. Darrian just shrugged and popped open the cork on the Highever vintage.

"Might as well drink this one while we're sober enough to appreciate it. Bann Alfstanna?"

"Mm, yes please."

"Ser Irminric?"

"Ah, it's just Irminric. And no, thank you. I don't drink."

"I don't see why not," Alfstanna muttered. "It's not as if you've got to worry about the Chantry anymore."

"Former Brother?" Darrian guessed.

"Former Templar," Irminric corrected. Darrian looked confused.

"Didn't know they let you guys go."

"They don't. Usually. Mitigating circumstances," Irminric said in response to Darrian's questioning look. The elf shrugged.

"Fair enough. Still, if you're no longer bound by your oaths then a little tipple never hurt anyone." Darrian took a sip from his glass and made a satisfying humming noise. "And this is _good_ wine."

"If you don't mind me asking, Irminric, how does a noble's son end up as a Templar?" Elissa asked, leaning back in her chair.

Irminric sighed. "Tradition, mainly. That and our ancestors seemed particularly Maker-fearing. With Waking Seas being the nearest port town to the Circle and since the bannorns outer holdings border Orlais, you could almost say it the favourite first destination for Tower runaways. The second child of our family has been sent to the service of the family for about five generations. Then of course shortly after I took my vows, Hennrith – my elder brother - died at sea."

"The Maker does have an awful sense of humour," Alfstanna remarked sadly. Darrian and Elissa, both products of ill-fate, whole heartedly agreed with her.

"So what are you going to do with your freedom then?" Darrian said. "Must be liberating, being free of the Chantry and its lyrium."

Irminric snorted. "You would have thought so, but when it is your whole life and you devote yourself to it wholeheartedly... I feel decidedly lost right now. I'll probably keep drifting after Alfstanna," he said giving his sister a good-natured elbow. "Then mayhap when she goes to settle down in Highever, I'll go with her," he added with a grin, watching Alfstanna flush. "Your brother's always got space for a good swordsman, or so I hear."

"I would guess so. The combination of Ostagar and Howe's treachery probably ruined our forces entirely." Elissa took a hasty gulp of her wine. "I hate to think how many widows Highever has thanks to that slimy bastard."

They sat together for a few hours, sharing stories, cursing Howe, taking about the future. Elissa even managed to give Alfstanna a few choice tales about Fergus, just to embarrass him (after all, what were little sisters for?) before the Bann and her brother retired for the night.

"You will be at the Landsmeet, yes?" Alfstanna asked.

"Quite probably."

The Bann of Waking Seas smiled warmly. "Then I will see you there. Give Fergus my regards."

"Only your regards?" Elissa teased, earning herself a thump on the arm. The two young women exchanged grins before Alfstanna turned to catch up with her brother outside.

Elissa went up the stairs of the inn to find a sleepy Madoc occupying half of the bed in the room Darrian had rented. The elf was stretched out on the other half, already divested of his armour and in his shirt and trousers, covering a yawn with one hand.

"So we're to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow?" he said. Elissa stripped down to her undershirt and trousers shoved Madoc off the bed so she could crawl under the covers.

"Ideally yes. Hopefully we can make the two day trek in a day and a half that way – get to Highever by lunchtime the day after tomorrow. Depending on bandits or darkspawn, obviously."

"Ah yes, the ever present time-consuming variables. The bastards." Elissa snorted into the pillow. She felt fingers in her hair as Darrian took the hairpins out of her braids and freed her long dark hair. "So, she's going to be your sister-in-law then?"

"So it would seem," Elissa murmured. "It's good Fergus has found someone new – and someone decent. Plenty of women would attempt to take advantage of his position."

"And you don't think she will?"

"I doubt it. Alfstanna is a very direct and down-to-earth woman. She'll be a support for Fergus, not a driving force. She is an accomplished speaker at the Landsmeet, true, but only on issues which she feels are absolutely necessary." Elissa remembered one of the Landsmeets she went to as a teenager and her father praising Alfstanna's mindset. "As a rule, she prefers action to politics, and certainly doesn't tolerate the games played in and out of the Landsmeet chamber." Elissa shrugged. "I will see what Fergus has to say when I get to Highever."

"Is she anything like his previous wife? Oriana?"

"No – not at all. Oriana was just as intelligent, of course, but her skills were tailored towards the softer political games and family matters. She was also a shrewd businesswoman. Alfstanna's skills are different, including fighting and commanding platoons – more direct and to the point, a true Ferelden." Elissa smiled into her pillow. "I'd be more than happy to call her sister."

"So you're looking forward to getting to Highever?"

"I'm looking forward to seeing my brother," Elissa said. "The jury's still out on Highever. I'll know how I feel when we get to the Cliffs of Conobar." Elissa turned her head to look at Darrian in the eye. "No matter what I say I should be going to Highever. If for whatever reason I change my mind, no is not an option. Knock me out and drag me if necessary."

"Must get to Highever. Got it," Darrian said, wriggling under the covers. "Will there be tears at this reunion?"

"Make, I hope not." Darrian laughed at Elissa's tone and leant over to blow out the candle and settled back for some well earned rest. Elissa lay awake in the dark for a while, her mind buzzing with memories of Highever, before finally succumbing to sleep.

x.x.x.x.x

_Next chapter: Highever! EEEEE I'm so excited, I can't wait to finish writing it._

_Just a quick note on Darrian and Elissa's relationship – not that anyone has queried it yet, but they are just close friends who have been travelling and fighting together for nearly a year, so (as with my long term friendships) physical boundaries are erased somewhat. Hopefully they're not coming across as romantic, since that's not my intention, so just to clarify ^_^ (in case anyone is wondering)._

_Please review – they really make my day! :D Will endeavour to get Chapter Six up soon._

_All the best_

_~phoenixandashes x_


	7. Chapter 6: Highever I

_Disclaimer: I don't own DAO or any part of it, I just abuse the characters for my personal fun. In addition, I do not have any claim to the use of the name Erynnar – that's Erynnar's :D I apologise in advance, my dear, if I have used your alias in vain, however I felt I needed to credit you in some way for giving me the idea heh... you'll see soon enough XD_

_NOTE: I apologise PROFUSELY for the ridiculous delay! I know I said I would try and get it out soon (and I did try! Honest!) but then I had another idea which I had to try and get into this chapter... then I was in Wales for a week with family (just... gah. Yeah. Wasn't particularly relaxing) and then... well... I may have bought Mass Effect and Mass Effect 2. And finished them both... Not that I'm making excuses or anything __

**Chapter Six: Highever (I)**

Fergus Cousland sighed as he leant back into the soft cushions of the study's sofa and found his marked page in his book. It was midway through the afternoon on Santinalia and he had nothing to do for the rest of the day. Thank the Maker.

The study door was shut to muffle the noise drifting from the festival in the castle square. Fergus had attended the morning's festivities, as was traditional, but had elected to have a quiet afternoon to himself, free of his usual responsibilities. He was happily enjoying a bottle of last year's white from one of the castles re-established vineyards and reading one of his father's many journals (which had miraculously survived Howe's invasion).

Fergus had already read the earlier journals detailing his father's exploits and worries from the rebellion – and how he met Eleanor – to the crowning of Maric and the revitalisation of Ferelden as a nation. Those were interesting to read, but the real joys were in the books from the summer of 9:04 onwards, from when Fergus was born. The entries were less frequent than the earlier books, but they were also no longer the generic musings of Bryce Cousland – each entry was addressed to Fergus, detailing an anecdote or offering a piece of advice.

'_Fergus,_

_I pray to the Maker that you never make the same mistake as I. I have made a grave error today and as a result made a great enemy._

_It's dangerous to get on the wrong side of your wife on the best of days, but when she is heavily pregnant, well, Maker help you. It is only a matter of time before your mother exacts her revenge. In hindsight, while celebrating the fall of the Occupation with Rendon and Leonas was acceptable, recreating the battle of River Dane in the Great Hall with upturned tables and wall hangings was not._

_There's nothing quite as sobering as being subjected to your mother's glare - except for perhaps a bucket of ice cold water. Even Rendon was subjected to a tongue-lashing, though Leonas managed to sweet talk his way out of it __the lucky bastard__ – how I will never know. Must be because he's her cousin...'_

Fergus paused in his reading, chuckling to himself and sympathising with his father – his mother's temper was formidable and he had been on the wrong side of the sobering gaze many a time. He was about to turn the page when a commotion not of the festival's making started outside. He heard hurried footsteps past the study door and a voice calling through the corridor.

"Milord! It's Lady Cousland! The Hero of Ferelden! She's returned!"

Fergus snapped the journal shut and growled as he stamped to the door, wrenching it open to glower at the chirruping servant in the corridor. "If this is a Santinalia prank, it is in poor taste and I'll gladly beat the living daylights out of whoever's idea it was!" The servant went pale and pointed a shaky hand down the corridor.

"B-b-but m-m-m-milord it's t-true!" the servant stammered in fear, not used to seeing the Teyrn angry _at all_. "Look!"

Fergus looked down the hall to see a mabari snuffling around the base of one of the wall tapestries. Fergus felt his temper rise a little further, unamused at this prank, but he paused to look at the mabari a bit closer. That white back foot, the whorl of white on his chest and the way he cocked one ear while investigating...

"Madoc?" he called tentatively.

The mabari's head shot up at the sound of his name and he gave a loud and happy _yip_ before bounding towards Fergus. The warhound stood on his hindquarters and reached out to touch his paws to Fergus' chest.

"Madoc!" Fergus confirmed, staggering slightly under the force of the mabari's welcome. "Down, boy. Down, I said!" The mabari contented himself with performing hyperactive pirouettes, and Fergus laughed again. The teyrn turned to the terrified servant and reached into his pocket for a sovereign. "Sorry about that... Maren, wasn't it?" Fergus handed the sovereign over. "Thank you for coming to tell me – enjoy the rest of your holiday."

"You're too kind, my lord," Maren said, taking the sovereign gratefully. "Give my best to Lady Cousland. It will be good to see her about the castle again. The last I heard she was in the courtyard with quite a crowd... though no doubt her mabari would be able to lead you to her much quicker."

Fergus turned away from the retreating elf and back to Madoc. "Calm down, Mad, it's good to see you too, but I need to find Elissa. Can you take me to her?"

The hound barked in reply and dashed down the corridor, pausing at the end to look over his shoulder. _Well, come on then!_

Fergus spared a brief thought for what he must have looked like – the Teyrn of Highever half running through and out of his castle after a mabari hound – and ignored it. Let any who saw him think what they like, because right now he didn't care one bit.

x.x.x

No matter how far she travelled nor how many places she had seen, Highever would always be perfect.

She wondered now what she was worried about – she should have known the castle would have been sufficiently intact, not a stripped out defiled husk – Howe wanted to use it, after all, not destroy it. And with the Santinalia festivities, the castle and its grounds were more beautiful and alive than ever, with coloured banners draped over the battlements and buntings strung from wall to wall. People were dancing on and around the raised stage in the centre of the square and children racing through the crowds laughing at whatever prank they had successfully pulled.

But there were still shadows in the place. Shadows all over this beautiful place, marring its perfection. She could almost hear Oren's laughter in amongst those of the other children and see her father persuading her reluctant mother to dance with him on the dias. Oriana would be singing with the minstrels and bards and Nan would be fretting over the evening's feast...

Madoc barked suddenly, snapping Elissa out of her reverie, and vanished into the crowd. Next to her, Darrian swore. "Madoc! Oy! Get back here!"

Elissa laid her hand on Darrian's arm. "Let him go – he grew up here, he knows where he is. He'll be back soon enough."

Darrian was about to ask Elissa some more questions about Highever (she had been tactically evading his interrogation since they entered the city, and he hoped to catch her off guard) when someone bumped into him.

"Blast it! I am so sorry!" Darrian turned to the source of the voice to see a pretty girl, decked out in festival finery and her hair braided with flowers and coloured ribbons. Some of her friends were a few paces back, giggling. The girl stammered. "Good ser, forgive me, my friends and I were just dancing – we should pay more attention to where we are spinning."

Darrian smiled at the young woman, not so discreetly looking her up and down. The girl blushed prettily, which only deepened when Darrian took one of her hands and bowed, gently kissing her knuckles. "It is I who should apologise, my lady – for what manner of man am I to stand in the way of such a beauty dancing?" He stood up but kept hold of the girl's hand. "May I ask for the name of my ravishing assailant?"

"Oh!" The girl said, her blushing spreading further across her cheeks. Her friends behind her shared a look and giggled louder. "I am Erynnar, ser."

"Erynnar," Darrian repeated, "what a beautiful name. Please, call me Darrian. May I join you for the rest of the festival? I have only just arrived in Highever with my Commander, and I don't know the city at all..."

"Commander?" Erynnar queried. "You are a soldier?"

"Ah, not exactly," Darrian said. "I am a Grey Warden."

The giggles of the two other girls stopped abruptly as they shared a look and a grin. One stepped forward to whisper something into Erynnar's ear (making the girl's mouth drop in a small 'o' and a curious glint appear in her eyes) and the two vanished tactfully into the crowd.

"My friend has just reminded me of one of the tales about Grey Wardens," Erynnar said, her shyness melting away now her friends were not about to witness her flirtations. "Apparently your... stamina," she said with a teasing smile, "is second to none."

Darrian gave Erynnar a roguish grin. "Truly my lady, I have been on the road for many days and have had little opportunity to verify that piece of information. Perhaps you would care to help me... find out?"

Erynnar's eyes flickered over Darrian's shoulder. "Does your Commander not have need of your presence?"

"Ah... good question." Darrian turned slightly to look at Elissa. "Permission to enjoy the rest of the festival, Commander?"

Elissa suppressed her smirk and pretended to consider the request seriously. "Permission granted, Warden," she said, in her most authoritative voice, playing along with Darrian's mild bending of the truth. "Report to the castle by the start of the night watch. We have much to do."

"Yes, Commander," Darrian said, releasing Erynnar's hand to stand to attention and thump his chest in a salute. As soon as he relaxed, Erynnar grabbed his hand at the two disappeared into the milling crowd.

Elissa sighed to herself and stretched her arms. It was probably best that Darrian wasn't around to see her when she saw her brother again – it wouldn't do for him to see her cry, and the chances of that were high. She had started to wind her way through the crowd to try and get to the castle gates when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Heeeeyyy you're fair pretty," the drunken man slurred, attempting to pull Elissa towards him. His two friends laughed and Elissa sighed. She turned towards the group of drinking men with a raised eyebrow.

"Kindly let me go, ser," she said, "as you have probably noted, I am quite heavily armed."

"Aye, but I _like_ that in a woman." His first friend laughed again, his second paled and look shocked.

"Err... Jenson..." he stuttered. "She's... that's..."

"Spit it out man! Maker's breath, anyone would think you can't hold your drink."

"She's the _Hero of Ferelden_," the man blurted. "That's Lady Cousland!"

"What?"

"Where?"

Elissa winced and shrugged the man's now limp hand off her shoulder – people were crowding around her and making surprised exclamations as she was identified. _Bollocks_, she thought. All she wanted to do was get to the castle...

"Long live Lady Cousland!"

"Maker bless you, milady!"

"Put her on the dias!" someone shouted.

"Let us see her!"

"Really," Elissa protested, feeling very claustrophobic with people surrounding her as the Santinalia revellers gathered into a tight jostling crowd. "I just need to get to the castle. I've only just got back..."

Of course, no one was listening, and she felt herself being pushed towards the steps of the raised stage.

Elissa stood her ground when she heard an excited bark. "Madoc!" she called, and she brought her hands to her mouth to whistle. "Over here!"

"Coming through!" called a familiar male voice and Elissa felt her heart speed up as the crowd parted at the behest of her mabari. "Excuse me!"

The crowd surrounding Elissa fell away in her view, her eyes fixed on her brother rushing down the aisle in between the people. Suddenly she was enveloped in his arms and she felt the tears burning in her eyes as he whispered disbelievingly into her hair: "You're back. You're actually back. I've missed you _so much_."

"I've missed you too," Elissa choked out into his shoulder, her arms tight around his chest.

"Liar."

"It's true!"

Fergus leant back and she looked up so they could see each other's faces. Around them the crowd was cheering for the two reunited Couslands and Elissa grinned at her brother, regaining some composure.

"How's this for a Santinalia prank?" she said flippantly. Fergus thumped her shoulder.

"You utter fool. Don't joke about this! I've been worried sick!" He kissed the crown of her head then turned her around forcibly, pushing her towards the stage. "Come on you. Get on the stage and make everyone happy then we can get you out of here."

"But Fergus..."

"Shut up. Denerim got a look at you – it's only right that Highever does too. Besides, I had to do the exact same thing this morning. Go on – up you go!"

Elissa gave her brother a brief scowl before putting on a perfect face for when she stepped onto the stage. The people of Highever cheered and applauded and Elissa inwardly sighed, initially exasperated but then, after listening and registering the words in the cheers, she perked up slightly.

She was being cheered as a _Cousland_. Not a Warden, not a Hero, but what she truly wanted to be – a Cousland, servant to her people and valued member of her family. Her smile went from forced to genuine and suddenly her homecoming was most definitely worth it.

x.x.x

All good things bust come to an end, and of course Elissa's joy at returning home was no exception.

The shadows of her former life quickly returned once she had crossed the threshold into the castle's Great Hall and inner courtyards. The stone was new across much of the front of the keep's structure, as was the main gate to the Great Hall. The doors swung shut behind her and she paused, resting her hand on the cool carved wood.

"_Go, man the gates! Keep those bastards out as long as you can!"_

"Elissa?"

Elissa jumped slightly at the use of her name and saw her brother looking at her with concern. She gave him a smile which she hoped was reassuring and hastily caught up to him where he was waiting by the west side door, Madoc at her heels.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

Fergus raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He offered his crooked elbow to her and she gladly accepted, linking her arm with his and letting him lead the way to the study.

The bookcases in the library were not bare as Elissa had expected them to be and she was pleasantly surprised. "I thought Howe would have got rid of our library," she remarked. "All of our possessions, in fact."

"He did," Fergus said. "Most of them. Those are mainly new copies. But not everything was lost – when I got back, I managed to get into the side rooms of the study and the master bedroom."

"The ones that can only be opened with our signet rings?"

"The very same." Fergus opened the door to the study and stooped to retrieve a second glass from the cabinet behind the desk. Madoc yipped happily and jumped onto the pile of cushions in the corner, the ones they always set aside for him, and curled up to go to sleep. Elissa was surprised Fergus put them back. "Clearly Howe hadn't thought to retrieve one or other of our parents rings before he..." Fergus trailed off, not wanting to voice his thoughts, knowing his parents probably would not have got the funeral they deserved.

"Actually," Elissa said, tugging at a leather cord around her neck and pulling out a small leather pouch, "it was because they gave them to me." She held out the pouch to Fergus and swallowed, her head bowed. "I should have given them to you before I left. Even better - I should have stayed long enough to tell you the full story of what happened... I..." Elissa's shoulders visibly slumped. "I'm sorry. Leaving was selfish. I shouldn't have gone."

Fergus took the leather pouch from his sister and set it down with the glass onto the desk. He pulled her into his arms again for another hug. Without a crowd around them he heard Elissa hiccup and felt her shoulders shake slightly.

"You've nothing to be sorry for," he said. "I know you were out of sorts after the Blight, and Maker knows if half the bards' tales I've heard about your adventures are true then you deserved the break. I was cross at first and then worried out of my mind the rest of the time, but I don't blame you. Not for anything. Now," he said patting her back gently, "make yourself comfortable and I'll get you a drink."

Elissa dashed the tears away from her eyes and took a deep breath as her brother abandoned the wine to source the study's stock of brandy. "It's a bit early for this," he admitted, lifting the bottle to the light to have a look at its contents, "but a have a feeling we'll need it."

Elissa snorted and set about removing her splintmail, shrugging it off over her head and untucking her soft undertunic from her waistband. She kicked off her boots and piled her upper armour and pack in the corner of the study, padding barefoot across the stone slab floor clad in her undershirt (which ended midway down her thigh) and her metal-woven tights.

Fergus raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Sister, I believe that shirt is more patch than fabric. Anyone think you had an aversion to spending money."

Elissa looked down at her tunic. "There are only six patches! That's hardly unacceptable."

"Well perhaps you can tell me what the original colour was?" Fergus teased, looking over the extensive ruddy stains in the fabric. "Were you mud wrestling before you arrived?"

Elissa snorted. "Blood's a bugger to get out at the best of times, let alone when you have to wash your clothes in icy rivers."

Fergus thankfully was spared having to reply to that (because he had no words with which to respond) when the door to the study flew open and a whirlwind of silk barrelled in and threw itself at Elissa.

Elissa couldn't help but laugh as she felt her face peppered with small kisses and an oh-so-familiar accent filled her ears. "Elissa! My friend, you're back, you're back! Oh I have missed you."

"And I you, dear friend, now let me go so I can get a look at you!" Leliana dutifully stepped backward, her smile bright and cheerful. She was dressed in a simple but fine silk dress with long sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, the deep blue complimenting her fair skin and fiery hair. Her lute was slung across her back and a beautiful silver locket was clasped around her neck.

"You needn't have left Santinalia to see me," Elissa said, shaking her head. "Your audience is going to be disappointed!"

"Pah!" Leliana said with a wave of her hand. "Everyone is talking about your return – they were hardly going to sit still or stay quiet enough to listen to my ballads about you when you're already the talk of the city!" Leliana reached out to take both of Elissa's hands in her own. "Where is your recruit? I have to meet him!"

Elissa grinned. "He should be back at the castle in time for dinner. He's currently enjoying the festival. I think you'll like him – he's a bit of a charmer and got a good voice, though his choice of repertoire can be a bit, erm... what's the word..."

"Common?" Leliana supplied.

"I was going to say crude, but that's probably a more tactful way to put it." The two young women laughed together.

"Oh!" Leliana said in surprise as Fergus stepped up to Elissa to hand her a glass of brandy. "Your Grace, forgive my poor manners," she said, bobbing in a curtsey.

"Oh for the -," Fergus sighed. "Stop teasing me like that Leliana. You know how I dislike the pomp and circumstance. It's just Fergus for you, as you well know."

There was the sound of footsteps in the library coupled with the rhythmic hollow knock of a stick on the stone floor. "They you all are. I figured you might be in here."

The three occupants looked to the newcomer and Fergus grinned. "Nice of you to join us, seneschal. Brandy?"

"Isn't it a bit early?"

"It's Santinalia, my love," Leliana said with a smile. "Early drinking is practically encouraged."

The exchange was broken by an audible _thud _and the sound of liquid splashing on the floor as the glass tumbled from Elissa's lax fingers and bounced off the corner of its base on the floor. The Hero of Ferelden's eyes were wide and her skin pale as her hands flew to her mouth, not entirely believing what she was seeing.

She swallowed and forced her hands away from her face to speak. "Rory?"

Stood in the doorway, looking as sheepish as he ever could, impossibly yet _amazingly_ was Ser Roland Gilmore. He was dressed in leather breeches and a quilted doublet, his ginger hair still cut short and flyaway and his face still clean shaven. Aside from seeing him out of armour, the only change was the addition of a finely crafted walking stick in his right hand.

Elissa ran to him, hopping over the puddle of brandy and throwing her arms around his neck, laughing and crying all at once. He brought his free arm around her waist and held her close, burying his head in her shoulder and shaking it in exasperation as a string of apologies fell from Elissa's lips.

"What happened?" Elissa said, leaning back on to his one arm. "How did you get out? I didn't dare hope... when I heard the gates fall I thought... oh _Rory_."

Rory hesitated and Leliana came to his rescue, laying a hand over his on his cane and reaching up to brush his hair behind his ear affectionately. "Let's all sit down, shall we?" she said. "We've got a long story to piece together."

Elissa did as she was bidden and sat down in the big armchair, curling her legs up underneath her. Fergus handed her a fresh glass of brandy and she gladly accepted it, taking a hasty gulp to steady her shaking hands. Rory and Leliana sat next to each other on the sofa and Fergus took the remaining chair. When Rory moved, Elissa spotted his stiff gait and his heavy reliance on the cane to move his right leg, and when he sat down he apparently couldn't bend his right knee as he held his leg out straight.

"What happened?" she said again once they had all sat down.

"That was what I was going to ask _you_," Fergus said with a sigh. Rory nodded in agreement.

"I've been holding out on this until you returned," Rory admittedly meekly. "I didn't want the Teyrn to have half a story... and I don't think I can tell it again after this," he said, his hands shaking. He looked at Elissa expectantly and she swallowed.

"Ah," she said. "I suppose I ought to start, then, shouldn't I?"

"That would probably be best," Fergus said quietly. Elissa gulped down the remains of her brandy and stood up to refill her glass, hastily knocking back that shot as well. She refilled her glass a second time and set it on the side table to her chair, clambering back into the cushions and pulling her legs up to her chest.

"I had gone to bed early, as you know," she started. Maker's breath, why hadn't she rehearsed this? She should have known she would have to recount it all in full eventually. "It must have been nearly midnight when Dairren and I woke up to Madoc's barking." She ignored Fergus and Rory's enquiring looks at the mention of Dairren – she had started now and hoped they wouldn't interrupt.

She took a shaky breath and barrelled on, not sparing the details. How Dairren had fallen immediately and she was thrown into the fray, half dressed. How her mother had flown into the hallway, dressed for battle, and how the two of them had found Oren and Oriana. Elissa noted with a breaking heart her brother's noise of distress, but didn't look at him and didn't acknowledge it, knowing if she stopped know she would break and not be able to go on. It was perhaps a callous decision, but she needed to tell him and get this out in the open, so she just stared at the top of her knees and let the words flow.

She had just reached the part when she and her mother were approaching the larder when the tears finally started. "He was bleeding so much," she gasped out, wringing her hands together over her knees. "He insisted we take the exit and leave him, adamant he wouldn't survive, and even if we had got him out the castle would be surrounded. Then Duncan arrived, confirming his suspicions. Father asked him to get mother and myself to safety and he agreed – at a price."

"What price?" Fergus whispered when Elissa's pause became a bit too long.

"That I join the Grey Wardens," Elissa whispered back. Fergus swore angrily and Rory let out a pained sigh.

"I didn't want to," Elissa continued. "I wasn't going to go. I wanted to stay, to defend my parents to the death, to go back to help hold the gates. I refused Duncan's offer... then..." Elissa ran a hand over her face and took a deep breath. "Father asked me to do it. For him."

"You never could say no to him," Fergus remarked wryly.

"No. I couldn't," Elissa confirmed sadly. "Then mother... mother said she would stay. She wouldn't come with me. Given what happened at Ostagar I suppose it was just as well... but I could have got her out. Got her to West Hill or South Reach."

"If she didn't want to go, then she wouldn't have gone," Fergus said. "You knew her as well as I. Beneath her fine lady exterior was a woman as fierce and determined as you are. She used to blame your hard headedness on the Cousland blood, but in truth it was only her seeing her old self in you."

Rory nodded. "Her strength showed later as well. Which is where my story comes in." He sighed, and Leliana gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. He smiled in thanks and launched into his tale.

"When you left to find the Teyrn, myself and the remaining soldiers held the gate as long as we could. Then one of their mages blasted it open from the other side. I was thrown back and buried under the rubble. I don't know how long I was out of it, but when I came to I was in the dungeons of the castle. And so was the Teyrna.

"I was manacled to the wall, but now I was awake and could pretend to be chained to the wall, the Teyrna freed my arms. She was rather creative with her hairpins," he added in answer to the Cousland siblings' questioning looks.

"She explained that you'd managed to escape with the Grey Warden and that she decided to stay. She defended the Teyrn as long as she could, but when the gates fell it was only a matter of time until they found her. For reasons unknown, the guards captured the Teyrna and attempted to capture the Teyrn but he didn't survive long enough. Which was probably a mercy." Rory gripped the handle of his cane tightly and took a shaky breath. "Howe... toyed with us. The man loved his own sick voice – recounting the plans for his attack and how he intended to use his newly acquired land and wealth to advance the Howe name to where it should be.

"He questioned your mother for information – I didn't hear much but he kept talking about Orlais."

"He claimed that our family had betrayed Ferelden to Orlais," Elissa interjected. "All a lie, of course, however he probably thought to get some semblance of a confession out of Mother in case Cailan survived Ostagar."

"It was a psychological attack," Rory said. "But your mother was too smart for the likes of him. The answers she gave we inconsequential and vague, and often with veiled insults woven in. Then he decided to get more forceful."

"He tortured her?" Fergus said quickly. Rory shook his head.

"No," he said quietly. "He tortured me."

"Maker's blood," Fergus exclaimed. Elissa quickly rose from her seat and dashed around the back of the sofa, throwing her arms around Rory's shoulders and hugging him tightly. He reached up with his free hand to return her hug as much as he could, covering one of her arms with his own.

"I don't know how long he had me tortured, but he ruined my leg in the process," Rory continued, tapping his straight leg with his cane. "The Teyrna... she couldn't hide her distress and that bastard revelled in it. I passed out from the pain at one point and awoke in the cell again. Howe visited once more before he was presumable called to Denerim by Loghain – he... he told us what happened at Ostagar. Said you were both dead, along with the King and the Grey Wardens. Neither of us believed him at first, knowing him to be a liar. But then Thomas was left in charge of Highever in his father's absence and he... he confirmed it."

"Thomas always was an awful liar," Elissa remarked.

"Well, he was lying well enough to fool his father," Rory said. "He was horrified at what Howe had done but managed to hide enough to avoid his father's wrath. When his father had gone he had a healer come to see me and salvage as much of my knee as possible. We were in the dungeons for weeks – months even, by this point. Howe visited again, and near enough undid the healing on my knee.

"When Howe left again, Thomas in charge once more, Thomas set about a plan to free us. It was risky – he was being watched more closely by once of Howe's vassals, left to spy on him. He made-out to the spies that I had died from my injuries and smuggled me out of the castle. I don't know the full details about the Teyrna's escape plan, I only know that it did not go well." Rory took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his hand squeezing Elissa's arm gently. "From what I could gather from various servants, Howe returned to Highever prematurely while the escape was taking place. The Teyrna was killed – and so was Thomas."

"Howe killed his own _son_?" Elissa exclaimed.

"The man was more insane that we had ever guessed," Fergus said grimly.

Elissa took a while to process this news. She was so shocked that it was a good moment before she realised that Rory was shaking it her arms, covering his face with his free hand. She hastily dashed around to the front of the sofa and knelt on the floor by the sofa, one hand on his good knee and the other tugging at one of his sleeves, imploring him to look at her.

"It should have been me," she heard him say. "I knew we should have got her out first."

"Don't say that!" Elissa said.

"None of this was your fault, Rory," Fergus said reassuringly. "It was all Howe's doing – you cannot wish to have been in my mother's place."

"Mother chose her path when she refused to come with me and Duncan through the servants exit," Elissa added. She had succeeded in getting Rory to show his face, taking his hand in her own. "You could have done nothing to change that."

Silence fell in the room again and Fergus finished his glass of brandy. "Take the week off, Rory. No buts," he added quickly, seeing the seneschal open his mouth to object. "I can handle the spring planting schedules by myself for a week. Go to the lakeside cottage and rest for a while. I appreciate you telling us all of this."

"As do I," Elissa said. "And I'm sorry I did not return sooner and that you held it in for so long."

Rory nodded mutely and swallowed. "It is getting late," he said quietly. "If your Lordship has no more need of me...?"

"Maker's breath, Rory, you're off duty. Quit with the formalities." Fergus stretched. "Take Leliana and enjoy the rest of Santinalia. I'm sure there is still dancing in the square," he added with a wink.

Rory flushed and started to stammer out that his dancing skills have never been that good let alone with a stiff leg but Leliana quickly rescued him from further teasing, ushering him out of the door. She gave Elissa a quick hug and a kiss to the top of her head and vanished out of the study door in a flurry of silk.

"Well," Fergus said with a big sigh, refilling the two glasses left on the table as Elissa lay back and stretched out on the sofa, "I... thank you for telling me, 'Lis," he said, his shoulders slumping. "Maker knows it can't have been easy."

"You seem awfully relaxed," Elissa commented. Fergus snorted.

"Oh it may all sink it a bit more later, nevertheless I've had two years to come to terms with the situation. I'll miss them all, always, and your story is another step to proper closure but..." Fergus sighed. "Life is too short to dwell on what could have been."

Elissa snickered. "Fergus the sage. Well you were bound to grow some brain cells eventually." Her laugh turned into a yelp as a pillow was thrown at her.

"Brat," Fergus said with a grin. He sighed and leant back in his chair. "It's good to have you home, little sister."

Elissa echoed Fergus' sigh and took a sip of her brandy. "It's good to be home, big brother."

x.x.x

Elissa couldn't sleep.

It was unsurprising, really. Every time she shut her eyes and tried to settle down, something would rouse her back to full alertness, whether it was her dreams or the change of the watch. At the toll of the third morning bell Elissa gave up and rolled out of bed, pulling on her old leathers and strapping a couple of daggers to her waist.

Madoc was fast asleep on a nest of cushions at the end of her room, snuffling quietly in his dreams. Elissa quietly slipped out of her room (well, her room in the new living quarters in the east wing. Fergus had rearranged the castle somewhat) and headed outside. The night breeze was fairly warm as she made her way up to the battlements. She sat on the edge of the crenel, her legs dangling over the sea and rocks below. Once upon a time this was a space for the sea ballistae, to defend against pirates and invaders. The ballista for this battlement was still here, but pushed right back against the castle walls and covered with a tarpaulin, no longer needed in these times of peace, but ready should things change.

Elissa tilted her head slightly to the right and tensed, hearing the barest whisper of a footstep behind her. A soft touch on her left arm bade her to relax, and she leant backwards into a friend's embrace. "You're getting sloppy," she commented dryly. "I almost heard you."

"'Almost' being the operative word there." Zevran sat down behind Elissa, his legs either side of her, his arms around her waist and his head resting against hers. "Clearly, travelling alone has sharpened your senses."

"I wasn't alone."

"Madoc, as intelligent as he is, does not count."

"You did not see my missive from Weisshaupt?"

Zevran shook his head. "I haven't been idle while you have been away. Perhaps Leliana forgot to mention that one to me."

"Ah. Well, I rescued some Ferelden elves in Minrathous. One came with me and became a Warden at Weisshaupt. His name's Darrian. I think you'll like him." Elissa smiled to herself. "He has a similar "take pleasure where you find it" attitude to yours. I was hoping you could take some time out to show him some of your blade skills and maybe a few poisons – he's good with a dagger, but he could be better."

"For you, my dear Warden, anything."

"What have you been up to then, my friend?"

"A little of this, a little of that. Nothing particular exciting – your brother asks me to keep an ear to the ground for him in Denerim, and the Queen has been hiring outside her usual network for information. Truly, I feel more like a bard than assassin these days, but the laying low apparently has worked in my favour. The Crows have not contacted me since the Blight – though they have contacted you." Zev produced a thick missive bearing the Antivan Crow seal from his pac. "I thought about opening it to check for poison, but there's no way they'd think such a thick and obvious package would work."

Elissa cracked open the wax seal and quickly read the letter from Master Ignacio. "Ah!" she said triumphantly, riffling through the folded papers. "Talk about perfect timing. These are for you," she said, handing over a few sheets of parchment over her shoulder.

Zevran leant back and unwound his arms from Elissa's waist to take the proffered papers. His eyes widened as he read the carefully inked words and he swallowed the lump in his throat. "How did you... I thought these were gone."

"I met Master Ignacio in Rialto," Elissa explained. "Turns out my sister-in-law – Maker protect her – was his niece. A daughter of House Sennabec. I called in a favour for all the hassle I was put through from the Crows during the Blight and asked that he make your "death" a little more official. It seems he went one step further," she added, looking down at the letter. "You're now – officially and legally – free."

Zevran looked over the papers in front of him – his birth certificate, his indenture contract and the (more recently drawn up) release papers. He closed his eyes and leant his forehead on Elissa's back. "This is a dream. An almost perfect dream."

"Only almost?"

"Hm. If it was a perfect dream, you'd be naked," he commented lecherously. "Though you are wearing leather, which is close enough. Ow!" he exclaimed as Elissa turned to thwack his arm.

"That real enough for you?"

"Ah... I suppose it is." Zevran smiled and kissed Elissa's shoulder. "My dear Elissa, there are no words to convey my thanks."

"None needed, my friend. I'm glad I could help." They sat in companionable silence for a while, the sound of the waves on the rocks filling the night air. Elissa sighed and tilted her head back to look at the stars. "What will you do now?"

"Well, I have a Grey Warden to train, do I not?" Zevran smiled. "Ferelden isn't so bad once you get used to the chilly weather and the smell. Oh, Antiva is beautiful in her dangerous way, but there's little there that makes a home now." Zevran stood up and offered his hand to Elissa, helping her up from her perch. "Come now, before someone sees us and thinks we're conducting some secret affair."

Elissa laughed. "As if you were ever worried about my image or status before!"

"You were an outlaw before," Zevran said, offering Elissa his crooked elbow. "Now you are a hero and a noble-woman once more! You ought to take care to avoid potentially improper and gossip-creating situations."

Elissa linked her elbow with his, still laughing. "Zev, proprietary can kiss my ass. I've never given much care to what others think – I'm sure Fergus has a number of stories about my "improper" escapades."

"Oh he has. And has retold them in great detail." Zevran laughed as Elissa swore, the two of them walking down the tower staircase. "Though I daresay you have some stories of your own about him, no?"

"Not as many as I would like. Fergus is – or was – very good at covering his tracks. I may have shared some of the more funny ones with Alfstanna when I met her on the way home."

"Oh? So Fergus has told you the good news then?"

"Actually, no he hasn't – Alfstanna's demeanour when talking about Fergus let it slip and I guessed. I don't think he knows I know yet - we've still got a lot of catching up to do."

"Of that I have no doubt."

"How long are you in Highever for?"

"I was about to ask you that," Zevran said with a chuckle. "Until the Landsmeet I expect. Or just before it, anyway – I'll probably go ahead of your brother and try and get a heads up on what's likely to be an issue."

"You're enjoying this politics thing, aren't you?"

"I've _always_ enjoyed the "politics thing"," Zevran replied. "It's just a lot harder without poisons or violence."

Elissa laughed again but quickly covered her mouth to stifle it –she didn't want to wake anyone this early. "Oh Zev, I have missed you."

"And I you." Zev hesitated before speaking again. "I would have gone with you, you know. If you'd asked."

Elissa felt guilty again. "I know. I just needed..." Elissa trailed off. Time? Space? Distance?

Zevran patted her hand gently and smiled reassuringly. "I know. Now, off to bed with you," he said, ushering her through her door. "I will see you at breakfast."

"Night," she said over her shoulder. "Oh, and Zev?"

"Si, amica?"

"Thank you."

Zevran smiled at the Cousland sibling and patted his chest pocket where his papers were stashed. "No, my friend. Thank _you_."

x.x.x.x.x

_Heh, so the Erynnar cameo was... well, she said in her last review she wanted to bed Darrian lol, and it gave me an idea and opportunity to have Darrian out of the way while Elissa was being reunited with her brother heh! (I hate having characters just *there* not interacting and being forgotten, so any opportunity to send one off to do something (or someone lol) is always welcome hehe). Hope you didn't mind me besmirching your name in such a way my dear XD_

_And I had major major issues writing the last few pages – I knew what I wanted but I couldn't (and can't) seem to write it right. Maybe I'll redo it... or more likely I'll just forget about it and keep going lol. Next chapter – more Highever funtimes! And a visit from a favourite character of mine... :D :D_

_Please review! They make me ever so happy ^_^_


	8. Chapter 7: Highever II

_A/N Apologies again for the delay! There are little excuses available this time... except for maybe my graduation (yes I did it :D though I'm back for post-grad work in September so I'm still a laybout student. No real world quite yet!) and the acquisition of a puppy (who is sleeping at my feet as I type)._

_The annoying thing is that the chapters are all planned right up to Chapter 15 lol! It's just a case of writing them heh._

_Unfortunately this chapter is again more chatter and little action or excitement. Soon, I promise, soon there will be adventure and romance and other fun things._

_Please review! I know I'm rubbish with updating regularly but reviews really do help get the motivation and determination going :D As well as the ever important inspiration, of course._

**Chapter Seven: Highever (II)**

It was a little after midday in Highever – the sun was shining, the breeze was warm and the Teyrn of Highever had had enough of paperwork.

Fergus was just escaping the confines of the castle through one of the small gates on the east wall when a noise made him pause. There was a holler from the guards at the front gates – a group of horsemen were approaching the castle. Knowing full well who it probably was arriving today, Fergus quickly turned about and hurried through the corridors and down the steps of the castle, arriving at the front gates just as the carriage pulled up.

"Teagan!" Fergus grinned and extended his arm as Teagan dismounted from his horse. The two men gripped each other's forearms and Fergus patted the older gentleman's shoulder heartily. "You're just in time. I was just heading down to the beach house."

Teagan smirked at the young Teyrn. "Finished early, have we?"

Fergus shrugged. "There's nothing on my desk that is urgent. And the weather is too nice to ignore!"

Teagan followed Fergus through the castle corridors. "The weather is Highever is often too nice to ignore."

"Well compared to Rainesfere it would be!" Fergus said with a laugh.

Fergus led the way out of the castle through the vineyards on the eastern slope and down the pebbled pathway to the cove at the foot of the cliffs that supported the castle. Several figures were milling around the beach house, waving – Teagan could recognise Leliana, Roland Gilmore and the Antivan, Zevran.

"Teyrn Cousland! Bann Teagan!" Leliana called out as they approached. She curtseyed as much as her bright beaded sarong would allow and smiled warmly. "How nice of you to join us!"

"Maker's breath, Leliana, I swear you just do it to tease me," Fergus said, running a hand down his face exasperatedly. "Formalities on a bloody beach... whatever next..."

"I believe it is all in the name of practice," Zevran drawled smoothly. He was stretched out on a lounger, his golden and tattooed skin catching as much of the sun as it could. "You've got to work on your poker face – as pretty and expressive as your face is, it has this awful habit of betraying every thought that crosses your mind."

Leliana grinned. "It's true! Everytime someone addresses you with your title, your brow furrows just _so_," Leliana said, mimicking the gesture, "and your mouth twists into a tiny grimace like _so_." The mini-scowl vanished into a smile as Leliana continued. "Not much, but enough for most versed in politics to read."

Fergus looked to Teagan for help but the Bann shrugged. "Don't look at me. I'm low enough on the political food chain to avoid these sorts of games."

"A-ha!" Leliana said. "But you are aware of the game, no? Your charm and manners are enough to divert the attention of any ladies in the vicinity – and the jealousy you inspire in their respective partners is just enough to distract them but not so much that they openly and aggressively react. You may not participate in the game, _monsieur_, but you are aware of some of the tactics."

"I... hadn't realised that was my intention," the Bann admitted humbly.

Rory chose that moment to limp over from the beach house and save the two bemused Fereldens from their Orlesian bard's theories. "My lords, I've a recent vintage of white on ice or a selection of reds on the rack. Or, if you prefer, there is a brandy open..."

"Andraste's ass, Rory," Fergus said with a laugh. "It's your day off! Let me manage the hosting – you sit back and relax."

"Which brandy is open?" Teagan inquired innocently, but unable to keep the wistful tone from his voice. Zevran chuckled, and raised his glass.

"An Antivan vintage," he declared proudly. "A _Gran Reserva _from Seleny Heights brewers – at least twelve years old by my guess." He raised the bottle and brandished it enticingly at the Bann. "Pull up a chair, Teagan, and settle down. I believe the show is about to start."

"Ooh!" Leliana said excitedly. "Are they there?"

"Show?" Teagan enquired. Fergus shrugged at first, then followed the rogues' lines of sight towards the tall headland at the opposite side of the cove.

"Ah," he said, spotting figures on the clifftop. "I think I know what this is."

"Shh!" Leliana said. "I think I hear them..."

The wind was carrying the voices from the headland and were just about discernable over the lapping waves.

"...aste's knickers this is high. Are you sure about this?"

"Sure? Of course I'm sure! I've done this dive hundreds of times. This headland is a traditional rite of passage for boys in the region to prove they were men. That and the usual first kill in a hunt and all that."

"So you proved you're a man?" A laugh echoed around the cove.

"I proved I was _equal_ to a man," the female voice declared proudly. "My mother was so angry when she found out though."

"I bet she was. How many rocks are there again?"

"Don't think about the rocks. As long as you jump clear from the cliff's edge you've got no problem."

"You're insane, you know that?"

"You have to be in this job."

"Fine... you go first then, if you're so good at it."

One of the figures – the woman - proceeded to walk to the cliff's edge. She sprung into the air and tumbled gracefully to the ocean below, spinning twice around with her legs held straight against her before unfurling to dive head first into the water.

Some moments later she resurfaced and called up to her companion. "In your own time Darrian!"

The figure left on the headland hesitated at the cliff's edge, turned about and took a few steps back.

"He's not going to do it," Leliana commented.

"He will," Zevran said.

"Oh? And how are you so sure?"

Zevran smirked. "How are you not? You're supposed to be better at reading people than I am. He's determined. He'll want to prove himself and he will – if not as gracefully as his commander."

True to Zevran's word, the second figure completed the jump, running to the cliff's edge and hurtling off it, crashing into the water with his legs tucked to his chest.

Laughter rang around the cove and the two divers swam to the shore. Teagan didn't recognise the elf, and at first he didn't recognise the woman... but then he looked again...

Elissa stepped out of the water, her dark hair bound in two long braids that tumbled down her back. She was wearing a long sleeved cotton shirt and trousers, both of which would probably hang quite loose when dry but currently clung to every curve from being soaked with water. Teagan swallowed the lump in his throat and quickly washed away the dryness with his brandy. Remembering that her brother was sat nearby and would not take kindly to inappropriate action against his sister was a well timed sobering thought.

The two Wardens walked onto the beach to a round of applause from the shore party and Darrian grinned and gave an elaborate bow.

"I don't know what you're bowing for," Zevran commented, smirking. "That bomb into the water was hardly inspiring, following Elissa's elegant dive."

"No?" Darrian purred with a cheeky smile, accepting a towled from Fergus and hooking it over his neck. "Perhaps _Master_ Arainai would care to demonstrate how to do it properly?"

The Ferelden elf sauntered up to his Antivan counterpart, the muscles of his lightly tanned torso rippling with each step. Zevran laughed and reached over to the side-table, refilling his glass while discreetly admiring the view.

"I have no need to perform such stunts in order to attract attention – as you well know."

Darrian opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by Elissa's hand. "Enough banter, you two, before the conversation descends into the gutter. We've got company."

Darrian wrested his chin from Elissa's hold and leered at her over his shoulder. "But Elissa you know conversation with me never rises above the gutter."

"Precisely why I've stopped you now before Zevran brings out the worst in you."

"Or best," Zevran said with a smirk. "Depending on your perspective."

Elissa rolled her eyes and stepped past Darrian to take both of Teagan's hands in hers. "Bann Teagan!" she said happily. "It's so good to see you! I'd hug you but... well, I'm a little drenched in sea water, as you can see."

Teagan laughed. "My lady, words cannot describe how good it is to see you. I take it your adventures across Thedas went well?"

"They were certainly enlightening, Bann Teagan, but it is very good to be home. And – well sod it," she said, closing the distance between them and putting her arms around his neck. "You're not wearing silk and you'll dry off soon enough in the sunshine." She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and sighed. "It is so very good to see you."

Teagan, not at all bothered by the damp seeping through his shirt, put his arms about her waist and hugged back. "You had us all worried," he said quietly into her ear. "How are you faring?"

Elissa patted Teagan's shoulder and pulled away from the embrace. "Well enough, Teagan, well enough. Zev!" she declared suddenly, turning back to the others outside the beach house. "Where's that brandy? You better not have drunk it all."

Zevran chuckled and handed Elissa a treasured glass of the amber liquid. "After you carried it all the way across Thedas? I would never be so selfish!"

x.x.x

"Darrian?"

"Yes, Elissa?"

"Are we getting lazy?"

"Hmm..." The elf paused and stretched, considering the question. Leliana and Rory had vanished some hours earlier to enjoy the rest of their day off privately, and the rest had retired to the castle study as the sun set. "Possibly. But we worked hard all winter and were travelling for a year – and you another year before that. So. I think we've earned the break."

"But the whole point of me travelling was to get a break." Elissa sighed. "What do you think, Teagan?"

The Bann sighed. "I think we're all heading to Denerim in a few days for the first Landsmeet of the year where everything is going to go to the Black City in a handcart as nobles squabble and bicker over everything – so any chance to get a break should be taken without question."

Darrian grinned. "Well said, that man."

"Hear, hear," added Fergus.

"Seriously though," Darrian said, poking Elissa gently in the ribs. "If you think we need to go and do something, we could always clear off the Chanter's board. Or there's that Merchant's Guild that's sprung up, I bet they have some do-gooding that we could do."

"You just want to try out your new blade skills on a real bandit, not a straw one."

"Well, I would be lying if I said no to the practice..."

Elissa pondered the suggestion. "Hm. Maybe after the Landsmeet. We'll see what Denerim brings."

Comfortable silence fell upon the room until Elissa broke it. "If you don't mind my asking, Teagan," she said, "why are you here? Not that I'm complaining about your presence," she hastily added, "on the contrary. I'm just curious as to why you detoured to Highever before the Landsmeet – you usually accompany Arl Eamon, no?"

Teagan sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Honestly? Eamon and I are... disagreeing more and more lately. Maybe it's just stress on his part that Connor is at the Tower, and there's a chance that their little girl will also be a mage – or that he is fussing over my lack of wife and family." Teagan snorted. "Probably both. Oh, and that I'm not playing by his rules in the Landsmeet."

Elissa looked at Teagan expectantly and the Bann sighed. "Eamon has been publicly pressuring Anora to marry – he's not alone in that respect, but I felt that his words were a little harsh and unnecessary at one particular Meet. Going on about Anora's age and so on. So I pointed out that Isolde – who was pregnant at the time – is older than Anora and seemed quite comfortable in her pregnancy, so there was no need to waste Landsmeet time on such a topic. I only meant to try and push the Landsmeet into looking at other – more pressing – issues."

Elissa nodded. "As was your right. On top of which, I think such speeches are left to private audiences. It was wrong of Eamon to bring such personal things up at a Landsmeet."

Fergus also nodded. "My thoughts exactly. So I seconded Teagan's motion to move to the next item on the agenda. A motion which was passed with a substantial majority."

"Mostly due to your input I would wager," Teagan said, "you have quite the following in the Landsmeet." Fergus waved him off.

"You were only saying what a lot of them were thinking. It is a shame Eamon took it so personally."

Teagan sighed and answered Elissa's questioning look. "Eamon felt that my public 'display' was me trying to undermine him. He's got it into his head that because I'm speaking out more at Landsmeets that I've developed a taste for politics and I would desire the arling to further my goals." Teagan shook his head. "He ought to know better. I've only been speaking up because the more support the Queen has for the changes she wishes to work the better. Plus, after the troubles with Connor and the attacks of Redcliffe, I've learnt that relying on my brother to manage my political duties is folly. Anything could happen."

"Did he say that to you? About the arling?" Elissa asked.

Teagan grimaced. "More or less. After that Landsmeet I returned to his estate where he was fuming. He told me that my loyalties should lie with him, his brother, and that I shouldn't ever perform such a stunt again. I countered by saying that we are not at war, and he shouldn't pick fights with Anora just because he was bitter about Alistair." Teagan sighed. "I have no doubt you guessed that Eamon was intending to... 'mentor' Alistair when he became King."

Elissa smirked. "Mentor is a very diplomatic way to word it, Teagan, but yes, I had my suspicions that Eamon was intending to use Alistair's inexperience to his advantage. And as much as Alistair was... not as naive as before," she said, recalling their discussion after their disastrous meeting with Goldanna, "I wasn't about to give Eamon the chance to try and use him. I didn't just say I would rule beside him because of that selfish thing called love. That aside," Elissa hastily changed the subject, "I can't imagine Eamon took your comments well."

"That he did not. I was escorted off his estate -,"

"What?"

"- and spent the night in the Gnawed Noble. I wager I would have spent the rest of the week there had I not been spotted by one of the Queen's maids."

"Her name wouldn't have been Erlina by any chance? Dark-haired elf, Orlesian...?"

"That was her," Teagan affirmed. "You've met her then?"

"Once or twice," Elissa admitted with a shrug.

"Well, she had heard from one of the servants on Eamon's estate about our disagreement, and had informed the Queen of my... well, eviction, for want of a better word. The Queen then summoned me to her study that day and thanked me for my support, and apologised that it had caused a rift between me and my brother. I told her that such an argument was long overdue, and frankly Eamon's opinions had been bothering me for months. Anora is still, and always will be in my eyes, a niece by marriage. A fact which Eamon is quick to forget."

"Anora, for obvious reasons, couldn't put Teagan up in the palace," Fergus said, apparently picking up the story. "Can't be seen to show favour during a Landsmeet and all that political malarkey – especially when family ties are involved. On top of that, it was in everyone's interests that such a disagreement between Bann and Arl was not publicised."

Teagan snorted. "Though of course everyone already knew through the servants anyway."

"Well... quite. Still, since we seemed to be agreeing on almost every point so far, Anora asked that I "rescue" Teagan from the Gnawed Noble. So I invited him hunting with me the next day and discreetly informed him that I knew of his situation and offered him to stay at my estate. And I tell you what, it's been a refreshing change to have a bann with a brain to talk to."

"Apart from Alfstanna," Elissa interjected with a grin. Fergus flushed.

"Well yes, obviously. Anyway that was, what, nearly a year ago? Since then anytime Teagan's been in Denerim he's stayed at the Highever estate."

"I can barely remember the estate," Elissa remarked, leaning back in her chair. "It's been years since I stayed there."

"Truly?" Teagan asked.

"Mmm. I must have been... fifteen when we last went to Denerim as a family? The last time we visited Denerim was a few months after Anora and Cailan's wedding. Father went to Landsmeets by himself after that and Mother used to visit Lady Landra on occasion..."

"I remember," Fergus said. "I commented on it once, when I actually left Oren long enough to go to a Landsmeet with him," he added with a rueful smile. "He said he had had enough of the politics game and wanted to spend more of his time at the teyrnir and with the family."

Elissa looked at Fergus thoughtfully. "Well you've read his journals," she said with a shrug. "Was he telling the truth?"

"...in part," Fergus admitted, reaching over to the pile of leather bound books on the side table, riffling through until he found the right one. "I remember reading the particular entry and meaning to show it to you... ah, here it is," he said, thumbing through the pages until he found the entry he was looking for.

"Your father left his journals for you?" Teagan asked the two siblings.

"Well, they survived the attack on the castle," Elissa said. "I've yet to read a whole one cover-to-cover – just the odd entry or two. It's nice to read some of them," she admitted, "It's like having a part of him still here. Especially with the way he writes and the advice he gives."

"And the stories he tells," Fergus added with a grin. Elissa laughed.

"That too." She skimmed the passages before her, her mouth dropping open slightly in realisation.

"Oh..."

"What?" Teagan said, the warm alcohol buzz in his veins dulling his sense of proprietary and demanding that curiosity be sated. "What does it say?"

"I... well..." Elissa swallowed. "It would appear that shortly after their marriage and Anora's ascension to Queen, she took it upon herself to arrange the marriages of the most available daughters and sons to Orlesian nobility – to strengthen political ties and the peace effort."

"Oh she didn't..."

"Mhmm. I was on top of that list – the prime candidate for some Orlesian dukedom heir."

"Ouch," Darrian sympathised.

"Apparently my father's rejection of the idea did not go down well..." Elissa said, reading down the page. She then visibly winced. "Oh dear... then my mother may have got Loghain involved with it all... caused some issues between father and daughter. Whoops. No wonder I was saved from going to Denerim every Landsmeet – I was a sore subject." Elissa laughed.

"You know I think our father would have let you marry whoever you wanted if you asked," Fergus said. "Of course, Mother would have taken some persuading. I think he would have let you run the teyrnir too if he thought he could get away with it."

"What?" Elissa laughed again. "Fergus don't be daft: it was always you. Highever loves you – you're a brilliant Teyrn."

"For the freeholders yes," Fergus said. "But I lack your political savvy when dealing with our 'peers'" he said, making speech-mark signs in the air, "and your tactical skills on the field."

"I assure you, both those skills were hastily learnt out of necessity during the Blight. And anyway, that's what wives and captains are for, no?"

Fergus snorted. "Maybe – if the wife in question is someone like our mother."

"Or Alfstanna," Elissa amended with a grin and cheeky waggle of her eyebrows. Fergus flushed.

"Honestly, would you _stop_ already?"

"Did I stop when you were getting married to Oriana?"

"You were _thirteen_. It was unbearable then, but excusable. Now it's not. _Especially_ when we're trying to be _discreet_!"

Elissa and Darrian laughed. "Oh brother dear, in case you haven't noticed, you've got it _bad_ for each other – discretion is a little tricky when you blush like that every time I mention her."

Fergus looked to Teagan for help and the Bann chuckled good-naturedly. "I'm afraid to say it's true... you're lucky that most of the gossip has been about more obvious things like Anora's suitors or Lady Beatrice of Oswin's new er..." Teagan cleared his throat. "_Manservant_."

Elissa and Darrian dissolved into racous laughter again. "Oh Teagan! You don't listen to _that_ sort of gossip, surely?"

"When Isolde is nearby there's rarely any other type of discussion." Teagan shuddered. "That woman, as much as she cares for my brother, is almost insufferable. She's taken it into her head she needs to patch things up between Eamon and I, and visits Rainesfere at any available opportunity. Needless to say, her methods aren't quite working – and the gossip is the only way to distract her from her preaching."

Elissa's grin was wicked. "Oh _Teagaaan_," she simpered in her best impression of the Arlessa. "Won't you please speak to your brother? He did not mean what he said, _Teagaaaaaaan_."

"Maker's mercy, don't," Teagan pleaded, laughing. "I'll have nightmares."

x.x.x

The next day, after nursing a small hangover through breakfast, Elissa decided she would go down to the markets for some shopping.

"Dresses?" Leliana inquired innocently. Elissa grimaced.

"I was hoping I could get away with jerkins and breeches. And a nice pair of boots."

"But we're going to a ball, Elissa!" the Orlesian declared. "You _must _have a dress for the ball."

"Worry not, Leliana," Fergus interjected smoothly as he was passing through the Great Hall, Teagan at his shoulder. "I've got that taken care of. The dressmaker will be at the estate when we arrive in Denerim to take your measurements and will have it ready for you on the day."

Elissa spotted the stack of papers tucked firmly under Fergus' arm. "More work?"

"Unfortunately. But I'm not alone with this pile," he added. Teagan nodded.

"New trade agreements between Highever and a port in Orlais. I've dealt with this particular Duke before – and can read his handwriting," he added with a laugh.

"Is he honourable?"

"As much as an Orlesian can be, I expect," Teagan admitted.

Peals of laughter from the courtyard cut across the conversation as the front door swung open and Zevran and Darrian entered. They were wearing their leathers and had their blades strapped on their backs.

"Elissa!" Zevran called, reaching up putting an arm around Darrian's shoulders (since the Ferelden was around half a head taller than the Antivan). "I thought you said this one needed to practice his sword work."

"I said he _could be better_. Not that he needed to practice." Elissa smirked at the pair. "I take it he met your expectations then?"

"Ah, amica, 'tis true, he has a lot of potential – but you could have warned me he had trained some with our pirate-friend Isabela first."

Elissa laughed. "I didn't know he had but somehow it doesn't surprise me. Tell me, Master Tabris, did you play her little game of cards? Or did you use some of your other... _charms_ to earn some lessons from her?"

Darrian grinned. "Which do you think it was? I'm assuming from the look on your face you also partook of the latter option?" Darrian stretched and his grin widened. "I would have never pegged you the type if I'm honest."

"I'm not even going to ask," Fergus said, shaking his head. Elissa shook her head and sighed.

"Come on," she said, walking up to the two rogues, Leliana close behind her. "Let's get down to the markets before it gets too busy."

"Shopping?" Darrian said with a snort, following his commander out of the castle. "You're an _awful_ shopper – always too scared to spend money, just in case you find something better or come across it by accident while trawling through a cave."

"Which is why I'm taking _you_ with me. I need clothes for Denerim – I can't go around in armour all day. Make sure I buy something."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Zev, make sure he doesn't steal anything."

"Hey!"

"Only saving you from yourself, dear."

Zevran chuckled. "Consider it done, my dear Warden."

"And Leli, make sure they both keep flirting to a minimum."

"Now _that_ is a cruel request," Zev remarked. Darrian grumbled in agreement.

The markets were quiet, as Elissa had hoped, allowing her to browse and shop without being hassled by too many well-wishers or fans. She may have used her status to her advantage when negotiating deals on the clothes she bought, but not (in her opinion) excessively so. She was just looking around a cobbler's shop for some decent but not military issue boots, something she could walk in without feeling like she would break the floor. Leliana, however, had other ideas.

"Oh _Elissa_ look at these!" She gasped and her hands hovered reverently over the rows of dainty and colourful shoes, picking up each shoe one by one and turning it gently in her hands.

Zevran looked at one pair of high-heeled shoes and pulled a face. "Assuming one could master walking in them, they would be quite the weapon."

"Hmm," Darrian pondered quietly, picking up one of the less dramatic shoes and looking it over. "These are nice, Elissa. Pretty, but not impractical."

"I'd trash them and you know it. Best that such shoes are left to true connoisseurs like Leliana."

Leliana was nearly dancing with joy. "They're _beautiful_ – I've never seen such shoes in Ferelden before! Where did you get them?"

The woman behind the counter chuckled. "Well, they're Ferelden made – though Orlesian inspired. My brother used to travel to Orlais regularly and brought back a pair of shoes each time. I met my husband in Denerim when I was trying to get a cobbler to fix a pair – he was just a servant at the shop but said he would try and fix them for me after the master cobbler declared such a task folly and a waste of time. A week later my shoes were returned – the week after a new pair arrived on my doorstep, handmade." The woman smiled fondly and stepped out from behind the counter to show them off.

"Awww," Leliana said. "What a beautiful story!"

"You're not telling the customers the story about how we met again, are you love?" a voice drifted out from the back room.

"Of course I am dear," she said fondly. "I like to make it known how proud I am of you after all."

The cobbler emerged from the doorway and hugged his wife, kissing her on the cheek. "And then I have to make it known that you are my saviour. I would have been stuck a servant all my life if I hadn't met you."

Darrian dropped the shoe he was holding in shock (though Zevran deftly caught it before it hit the floor and reset it on its stand.) "Soris!" he exclaimed.

The cobbler – a familiar looking redhaired elf – let go of his wife abruptly, his arms going lax by his side. "Cousin?"

"Andraste's tits!" Darrian said loudly with an exalted laugh. "It _is_ you! Well I suppose your luck had to turn around one day... cousin?"

The redhead had gone deathly pale and leant heavily on the counter, still staring in disbelief at Darrian.

"Soris?" his wife said worriedly. "Honey, are you okay?"

"Maker's breath," Soris managed to get out, coupled with a bubble of suppressed and near-on hysterical laughter. "I'm going insane. I've gone insane and I'm seeing ghosts."

"Soris..." Darrian started carefully. "I'm no ghost. I can promise you that."

Tears started to well in Soris' eyes and he ducked his head, his knuckles white as he gripped the table top. "They said they killed you!" he blurted out suddenly. He took a heaving and shaky breath and ploughed on. "The Arl's guards. Said you didn't deserve a trial and weren't worth a public hanging so they just killed you."

Zevran's eyes flicked to Darrian, curious, but the Warden just shook his head. _Later_, he mouthed to the Antivan. He took a careful step towards Soris behind the counter, like he would to approach a spooked horse, not wanting to startle him. "Soris," he said gently again. "They didn't kill me. They sold me to some slavers and I was packed off to Tevinter."

Darrian reached out to gently touch Soris' shoulder and the redhead's reaction was swift, throwing his arms around Darrian's neck. Darrian hugged him back and closed his eyes, holding his cousin – who was in all respects more like a brother – tightly.

"I'll go make some tea," Soris' wife said gently, stepping around the counter to hastily shut the door to the shop and turning the door sign to show "closed."

Soris took a deep breath and stepped away from his cousin, wiping his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose to try and regain some composure. "Maker's breath," he said again. "I can't quite believe it. What happened? How did you get here?"

"One question at a time, eh?" Darrian said with a weak chuckle. "I'll tell you everything in a minute... I just need to ask something first. When I was caged up in Tevinter, I was with a bunch of the others from the Alienage – Elodie, Viv, Tobias, Marko – about a dozen all told. We sent them home on a ship to Denerim – did they make it back?"

"_You _were with them?" Soris said, a note of hysteria creeping into his voice again. "They got back fine! Why didn't they say anything to us? More importantly," he snapped, giving Darrian a shove, "why didn't _you_ come back with them?"

"Soris," Darrian said gently again. "Think about it. I was a criminal – my enslavement was a punishment. I wasn't stolen from the streets like the others – I couldn't just waltz back home."

"But you can waltz back now?"

"Well yeah," Darrian said sheepishly. "I'm a Grey Warden now."

Soris opened his mouth and closed it once, twice, then three times. He shook his head violently from side to side and pinched his nose again. "This just gets weirder by the minute."

"I need a drink," Darrian muttered.

"You and me both!" Soris replied. "You need to get home, Darrian. Uncle Cyrion, Shianni... they need to know you're alive."

"Darrian," Elissa said quickly. "Catch-up with your cousin then meet us back at the castle. We'll pack the basics and have my brother bring the rest with him next week. We leave for Denerim this evening."

"What?" Darrian spluttered. "Elissa, don't be daft – we've barely been here a week! You can't just leave your family so I can see mine. We're going at the end of next week – it can wait til then."

"No," Elissa said, shaking her head. "The city will be in chaos then for the Landsmeet and Memorial Day. It will be better if you can go when it's quieter."

"Especially when Shianni will be at the Landsmeet as Bann of the Alienage," Soris said.

"What?" Darrian exclaimed again. "Ack – you know what, that story can wait a second."

"Look," Elissa interjected. "I know what it's like to have a family member you think is dead. It's not pleasant. The sooner you go, the better it will be for all of you."

"Then I'll go with him," Zevran said smoothly. "It will be better I head to Denerim before you and your brother anyway, to keep an ear out for the gossip." Zevran patted Elissa's shoulder. "I'll keep an eye on your protégé, I promise."

"Fine," Elissa said with a sigh. "I'll go and pack your things – you meet Zevran at the gates when you're done. And take Madoc with you," she added grimly. "You never know what's on the roads these days."

Darrian straightened his posture and gave Elissa a cheeky grin and lazy salute. "Yes ma'am!"

x.x.x.x.x

_Sleepy phoenix is sleepy._

_Please review?_

_xxx_


	9. Chapter 8: Highever III

_A question for my lovely lovely readers – do any of you have an account on BioWare's social network? I'm sick of not having friends there (lol) so if you are so inclined, look me up (same username: phoenixandashes :D) and add me! Or, let me know your username in your review or a PM and I'll find you :D_

_Warning: The latter part of the chapter (I don't want give it away but I also don't want to upset anyone) contains some mildly suggestive scenes of a homosexual nature. (You read right – so if male on male is not for you then don't read the last few paragraphs.)_

**Chapter Eight: Highever (III)**

The spring night was clear but warm, and at a glade off the North Road two elves and a dog were settling down for the night.

Madoc was curled up in the tent, asleep but alert, his ears waiting for any sound of danger. Darrian was standing in the spa e between the fire and the tents, running through blade forms with two daggers ("Reach perfection with those first, then I might let you handle a sword," Zevran had said while Darrian had grumbled. It was odd dealing with two short blades when he was used to a longsword and dagger combination, but if it helped in the long run then Darrian would do as he was told) while Zevran fussed over the rabbit stew on the fire.

"Zev," Darrian said with a laugh as the Antivan tutted again and riffled in the pack for more spices. "Rabbit is rabbit. If it's hot and cooked through I'll eat it all the same."

"_You_ might," Zevran said snippily, "but other people have developed actual tastebuds. Honestly you Fereldens – if it was dead and roasted through I swear you'd eat it, whatever it was."

Darrian laughed again and ran through the form once more. "Did you have charge of the cooking during the Blight?"

"Eventually, on occasion," he admitted. "Leliana and Wynne took turns more often than not. I'm not sure if you've heard the story, but I wasn't particular trusted near the food to begin with."

"Oh, I've heard the story," Darrian said with another laugh. "Sounds like you got a lucky, that's for sure."

"Hm... quite," Zevran said, reaching out to stir the wooden spoon in the pot. "So... how did you meet our illustrious Hero?"

"Elissa didn't tell you?"

"She didn't mention specifics, no. Only that you met in Minrathous."

"Ah," Darrian said, pausing in his exercise slightly to shake the stiffness from his shoulders. He stepped back into form and arced his blades through the air. "Well, as she said we met in Minrathous. I was a slave, being held in the dock warehouses with about a dozen others from Ferelden. I was singled out though – I tried to escape twice," he added with a cocky grin. "However, I was trussed up like a Solstice goose after the second attempt. A Grey Warden rogue crept in to ask if we were from Ferelden – once she had that confirmed she left, and Elissa, the rogue and another fighter come charging in, swords held high and set us free."

"That sounds like Elissa," Zevran said with a fond chuckle. "So I'm right in thinking you were an Alienage dweller?"

"You would be correct."

"Were you caught in Denerim?" Zevran asked, remembering the elves in the warehouses from the days of the Blight. "We ran across some Tevinter slavers there masquerading as Healers – we stopped them, but not before they had a chance to send a few shipments off to the Imperium."

"No, but by the sounds of things it may have the same group. The others I was with mentioned being duped by Healers when a plague erupted in the Alienage. I on the other hand was... handed over."

Zevran looked at Darrian quizzically and the Ferelden sighed, dropping his stance. "I was a criminal. A murderer, in fact. Whether Howe divulged the true nature of my imprisonment I don't know but... well. There you have it." Darrian grimaced and went back to his forms, staring resolutely ahead into the darkness of the trees.

Zevran removed the pot from the fire and divvied the stew out into their bowls. "Here," he said holding out the bowl to Darrian. "Stop that and eat something. And start from the beginning – I find it hard to believe that a person such as yourself would just kill in cold blood without provocation."

Darrian snorted and sheathed his blades, taking the bowl from Zevran and sitting on the log by the fire. "I suppose I was provoked, yes," Darrian said with a sigh.

"It was my wedding day -,"

"Oh? That's always a good start to a tale," Zevran quipped. Darrian snorted again and pulled a face.

"Aye well – it's not like I _wanted_ to get married. But then I guess you know how it works in an Alienage."

"Actually, I don't," Zevran admitted. "I was raised in a whorehouse and then sold to my guild. I've only ever been inside an Alienage when working."

"Really?" Darrian said in surprise. "Well... marriages in the Alienage are nearly always arranged and nearly always happen when someone turns eighteen. In fact, you're considered a child until you're married. The parents of the child usually arrange the match or the hahren – our elder – when the parents are deceased. My father had arranged for a match from Highever, and Elder Valendrian had arranged one for Soris, also from Highever.

"I considered running to find the Dalish that day," Darrian said with a laugh. "So many times. I really didn't want to get married."

"Was your bride-to-be that terrible?"

"No," Darrian said with a sigh. "No, I suppose she wasn't. She was beautiful, that's for certain, but she was quiet, reserved... not what I who I would have picked for myself if I'm honest. But then, as my father knew, if it was up to me I wouldn't have chosen at all. I wasn't cut out for a quiet family life, for the good of the Alienage or otherwise.

"Anyway, the wedding was about to start... when the Arl of Denerim's son decided he would make a trip to the Alienage. It wasn't the first time he had barged in with his friends to steal away some of the girls for the night, using the Alienage as a personal brothel, but it was the first time he was so open and blatant about it. And he picked on my cousin, Shianni."

"A-ha," Zevran said, "so that was the trigger?"

"No, no," Darrian said with a smile. "Shianni could look after herself – she knocked him out with the nearest available glass jar. But she didn't realise who he was.

"His friends whisked the unconscious moron away and the wedding got underway. We'd barely started, however, and Vaughan came back.

"I'm ashamed to say he knocked me out cold on the dias," Darrian said with an embarrassed grimace. "And when I came to Soris was hovering over me, and Elder Valendrian. The shems had taken our betrotheds and all the women in the wedding party. Six, all told.

"I headed back to my house and pulled my weapons out from under the floorboards – my mother was a Dalish," he said in answer to Zevran's questioning look. "She taught me all she knew up until humans killed her for being a troublemaker when I was thirteen. Anyway, with the help of one of the servants from the Arl's estate we snuck into the building through the kitchen, hoping to get to Vaughan's rooms and... well get the women out. By any means necessary."

"When you say 'we' you mean...?"

"Me and Soris."

"Ah, you're cousin in Highever."

"That's the one. Never really pegged him to be the type to marry a human but... well, she's a lovely enough lady," Darrian said with a shrug. "The trip through the Arl's estate didn't go well. Our cover was blown when... well, I blew the cover," Darrian admitted. "We tried to bluff our way and say we were taking the weapons back to the armoury but that didn't work, so I just threw a knife at the guy. We fought our way to Vaughan's quarters after that.

"We found one of the bridesmaids dead in one of the side rooms." Darrian swallowed. "Poor Nola. She must have resisted. When we finally got to Vaughan's rooms he was over Shianni and... we were too late."

Zevran looked puzzled. "We met a Shianni in the Alienage. A spirited and fiery redhead, as I recall."

"Really? That was her... Yes, we saved her from death... but not from Vaughan." Zevran's face fell in realisation.

"But you got her and the other women free, yes?"

"Not before I killed Vaughan and his two lordling friends who had touched her. We returned to the Alienage," Darrian continued, "and got the women to their homes before the guards arrived. When they did... well, there was no use hiding it. I was still covered in blood after all. Soris was with Shianni back at the house, so I handed myself over, took all the blame."

"And then Loghain sold you to fund his war," Zevran said darkly.

"Loghain?" Darrian said, confused. "No, not Loghain – sure he may have _allowed_ it but it was all Howe's idea. I've met some slimy customers in my time – even swindled a few – but never so malicious and vile as that man."

"Swindled a few?" Zevran asked, his eyes twinkling. "Now there's another story begging to be told."

Darrian smiled and stood up, brushing off his legs. "Some other time, perhaps," he said, stepping into stance and running through the forms again.

Zevran stood up sharply and moved behind Darrian, hands reaching out and firmly correctly slight faults in his positioning. "I am curious," he said, stepping away from the younger elf to let him continue. "You said you did not want to get married – then you were willing to be considered a child for longer?"

Darrian sighed but continued in his movements. "It wasn't that – I just didn't want a family. I'm a poor example of an elf, really. It was infuriating to think that marriage and a family was a duty. Being a Grey Warden is a real duty. I think I'm rather good at it," he added with a grin.

Zevran cocked his head, intrigued. "But are you exercising your duty at the moment? Why not even stay with the Wardens in Weisshaupt or Orlais? Why stay with Elissa?"

"Aside from the lure of adventure and promise of excitement?"

"Naturally."

"Honestly?" Darrian said with a sigh, dropping his stance. "I owe Elissa. More than my life, since that's so easy to give up for someone. I owe Elissa my freedom and to that end I'll follow her lead wherever she may go. Not that I would ever tell her that," he added, "since she would be horrified at the thought of someone bound to her in that way."

"Especially a friend," Zevran said quietly, Darrian's words voicing the very truth he had felt inside since the moment Elissa killed Taliesen.

x.x.x

Back in Highever, Elissa was packed and ready for Denerim. Her armour was clean and on its stand, Starfang and the Keening Blade in their specially lined box at the foot of her bed. She was wearing a worn leather jerkin and soft comfortable trousers, along with her new pair of embroidered boots that Soris had sent up to the castle. (She had tried to return them but the elf would have none of it – "If anyone asks, just say where you got them," he said, blushing. "They're a gift – the least I could do for you saving my cousin".)

Elissa paced the room twice. It was too late to socialise, and she knew that Fergus had already gone to bed. It was too late to train and she didn't want to start the journey sweaty and dirty from such exertions. That left going to sleep and that just wasn't possible right now.

Elissa took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She was going back to Denerim.

The rational part of her brain knew she was being silly. Denerim was not going to be a Blighted wreck like when she left, and from the sounds of things Anora had used her power wisely when rebuilding the city. She wasn't going to have to sneak around as an outlaw anymore and she didn't have to worry about fighting any battles. Hopefully.

Nevertheless she couldn't help but remember that Denerim is where he – Alistair – had died. As a result, sleep was eluding her. She huffed angrily and decided that she'd go to the study to try and clear her head – mayhap do some reading and raid the wine rack.

Elissa stoked the embers of the dying fire to drive some of the chill out of the stone and then went to the bookshelf to find a suitably sleep-inducing tome. She paused at the desk to look at the wall, surprised at what was latched there and scolding herself for not seeing them sooner.

Latched on the wall in place of an old ancestor's portrait was the Cousland sword and shield. She wondered how they got back to Highever, having distinctly recalled putting both into Levi's safekeeping at Soldier's Peak following the Landsmeet and Howe's demise, not wanting to have the shield damaged any more (the Cousland crest on the shield was marred by several dents, a magic burn mark and scratches from hurlock claws from Ostagar, the only battle she really used it in) and not wanting to carry the sword any longer. She had fulfilled the sword's use and needed to focus on the Archdemon... in addition to that, she had no wish for her family's legacy to be looted from her corpse should she have fallen.

Elissa reached up and lifted the sword carefully from its stand. Making sure she had the space and wasn't inadvertently going to slice any furniture, she spun the blade in her hand and ran her off-hand gently along its edge, going through an elegant and precise form – one that was light on the energy consumption and more about a display than anything else. At best it had you aware of the blade and where it went during its sweeping arcs – and it also meant she wouldn't get too worked up.

She tossed the blade into her off-hand and repeated the steps. She was about halfway through the form when a low voice interrupted her concentration.

"I've never seen a warrior so proficient with the use of both hands for blades," Teagan commented from the doorway. "You're ancestors would be proud to know that a woman of your talent and strength has wielded their sword."

Elissa lowered the blade and scrutinised the Cousland crest embossed on the hilt. "I'm not sure," she said. "I barely carried it during the Blight – it hurt too much to look at it. I used it at Ostagar, in the Circle and on Howe, but that was about it. Hardly a legacy."

"Maybe not in comparison to some of your other adventures," Teagan said. "But compared to some of your predecessors? Those are fine exploits indeed."

"Nevertheless," Elissa said matter-of-factly, stepping behind the desk to replace the sword on its stand, "it was never really mine to wield – I only used it out of necessity. It's in the right hands now." Elissa turned back to the bann with a sunny smile. "Wine?" she offered brightly.

"Elissa..." Teagan started. "You don't need to play the hostess with me. Are you alright?"

"I..." Elissa's false reassurance died on her lips as Teagan gave her _that _look – the kind of look which meant 'I know you're lying so quit it already', with a raised eyebrow and a sad smile. She turned away from his gaze quickly and set about opening the bottle.

"We're going to Denerim tomorrow," Elissa said, her hands shaking and struggling with the corkscrew. "_I'm_ going to Denerim tomorrow. I can't help but think..." Elissa shook her head. "I don't think I'm ready for it."

Teagan stepped beside Elissa and gently took the wine bottle and jammed corkscrew from her, managing what her shaking hands couldn't. He poured out two glasses and handed one to Elissa, using his free hand to guide her to an arm chair.

"You'll be fine, I'm sure," Teagan said calmly. "You won't be required to anything nearly so much as last time. Just put in an appearance with the nobles to let them know you're alive and then you can come back."

"It's not that, it's..." Elissa trailed off and took a hasty gulp of her wine to fill the silence she made.

"I know," he said softly. "It reminds you of Alistair, doesn't it?"

Elissa closed her eyes and let her lips rest against the coolness of the glass. She nodded, once, and swallowed against the tightness in her throat and fought the burning sting in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, setting her near empty glass on the table, "I can't explain it but I can't stop it either. Being back in Highever has been an emotional rollercoaster enough, but to be going to Denerim just makes me think of Alistair, and it just brings it all back. It's… been more difficult than I ever thought it would be."

There was a pause, the silence between them broken only by the occasional crackle and pop of the fire. Teagan then took a deep breath before speaking softly, as if he was carefully considering his words.

"You wonder don't you," he said quietly, "how did you live before? How did you live before that person was in your life – because truly you can't ever imagine being without them. Their shadow seems to dog your every step, reminding you that you are alive and they are not, but are you truly living now they are gone?" Teagan reached across to the table and refilled their glasses. "And then there are other people, people who knew your person, mayhap even cared for them, but then they aren't waking up alone each morning and feeling the loss of them all over again, they aren't walking around feeling like half of them is missing."

"That… I… _yes_," Elissa breathed, her previously indescribable emotions suddenly a bit clearer. "How do you know that?" she asked in a disbelieving whisper.

Teagan smiled sadly. "Because you're not the only one to have loved and lost." He hesitated, then unfastened the topmost buttons of his doublet and reached around the side of the collar, one finger finding a fine gold chain that was fastened around his neck, carefully hidden under his shirt. He unclasped the necklace and tugged it free, handing it over to Elissa, all the while not meeting her eyes, his gaze averted to the flickering flames in the fireplace.

Elissa took the locket from him and turned it over in her hands. A shield with a coat of arms was embossed on the front of metal case, a fox leaping over a sheaf of wheat – the Rainesfere heraldry. On the back on the locket was another coat of arms that Elissa didn't recognise, this time with a beaver over a pair of crossed hammers. Inside was a portrait of a beautiful young woman with long golden hair bound in a tight braid which fell over one shoulder. Her eyes were a deep brown and her full pink lips tilted in a half smile.

"Her name was Maylene," Teagan said quietly, not looking away from the fire.

Elissa kept quiet, sensing that Teagan was dredging up old and uncomfortable memories. She wondered who else knew what he was going to say, or how long he had been holding it close. Nevertheless, she was touched that he seemed to trust her enough to reveal this to her.

"A number of years ago, Rainesfere used to border three bannorns," Teagan said, "Redcliffe to the south, Lakesedge to the north and White Peaks to the west. White Peaks was even smaller than Rainesfere, its people hardened by the terrain, weather and hard work. The village was built on the cliff side of a pass into the Frostbacks, and their main income was from their mines – and their sheep, but mainly the mines." Teagan took a shaky breath and swallowed before continuing. "Some of the best silverite mines were housed in White Peaks, the veins running deep into the mountainside.

"The bannorn of White Peaks had been in the Russon family for generations. The bannorn itself was largely untouched by the occupation due to its surroundings and the clever deception of Bann Mathias Russon – he convinced the Orlesians that White Peaks' only commodity was its livestock, the mines having been exhausted years ago. He managed to conceal the locations of the newer silverite veins from the chevaliers, who reported the apparent uselessness of White Peaks back to their leader. A particularly slack-brained Orlesian nobleman was placed in charge of White Peaks, but he spent most of his time huddled indoors next to a fireplace, leaving Mathias to smuggle silverite ore to the resistance forces in peace.

"Maylene was the youngest of Mathias' four children, and the only girl. She was beautiful and strong… and stubborn to a fault. Her eldest brother died at West Hill, and her second eldest at River Dane, leaving only her and her third brother Riley as the Russons of White Peaks when her father died in 9:09.

"In truth, Maylene should have inherited the bannorn: she was the more resourceful and practical of the two, and not so easily swayed by pressure or temptation, but Riley was in his twenties while she was barely seventeen. I had been the Bann of Rainesfere for a year by this point, having been thrown into that responsibility early on. Maylene and I were of an age and she helped her brother by organising the trade oppurtunities; Rainesfere was the main gateway for trade for White Peaks, the smithys in my bannorn thriving off the quality ore from White Peaks. We… spent a lot of time together." Teagan paused to clear his throat and take a sip of his wine.

"We could empathise with each other – I with a bannorn to manage and she with a bannorn to support – her brother didn't do a bad job, but he was ambitious. White Peaks wasn't big enough for him, so he furthered the mines, deeper and longer mines, to drag more valuables from the rock to make White Peaks great.

"Nevertheless the increased output meant Maylene visiting Rainesfere often, so neither of us questioned his decisions. If her brother knew of us, he said nothing, but I don't imagine he noticed. He never seemed to care for Maylene much. Jealous, I think, of her rapport with the villagers and tradesmen. It was because of his lack of respect for the miners and tradesmen that Maylene wouldn't leave White Peaks to come to Rainesfere – without her White Peaks would have suffered greatly. Eamon wasn't pressuring me to marry at this point, so I didn't press the issue with her. Only… only Isolde knew of our relationship," Teagan admitted with a blush.

"Isolde was in Rainesfere while Eamon was at a Landsmeet – she didn't like to be in Redcliffe alone in those earlier years, too many memories of the occupation, I think – and she caught us. She was surprisingly sympathetic over the whole thing, once we explained anyway – and once she suitably berated me for compromising a woman's honour." Both Elissa and Teagan laughed – Teagan at the memory and Elissa at the image. It was something Isolde would do after all.

Teagan's smile vanished to be replaced by his grim expression once more. "We were together like this for nearly two years… then one day Maylene came to me with some terrible news. In the process of extending the mines, Riley had come across some lyrium veins. Massive lyrium veins. Whether it was the lyrium or the ambition which addled his mind I don't know, but he thought to take on the Chantry in the lyrium trade – the dwarves had no control over these veins, so neither did the Chantry.

"Maylene wanted to stop him – his intentions would destroy White Peaks, she said, and I agreed with her. The veins should have been closed off for the safety of the miners, but Riley wouldn't be convinced. And we couldn't have brought it up at a Landsmeet, for then the Chantry would find out and exploit the mines themselves, still bringing danger to White Peaks." Teagan swallowed in an attempt to relieve the tightness in his throat, and Elissa was startled to see tears glistening in his eyes. "Had I know… had I known what would happen, I would have made Maylene tell the Chantry, regardless of what they may or may not have done."

Elissa reached over to refill Teagan's glass and, once she put the bottle down, reached across the gap between her chair and the sofa to put a comforting hand over one of his. He smiled in thanks, took another shuddering breath and pressed on with his story. "We went up to White Peaks to confront him, to try and persuade him to reconsider, to shut off the mines. He laughed in our faces and cast Maylene out of White Peaks. She was heartbroken that he would do that for the sake of coin but I comforted her as best I could.

"After that, she made Rainesfere her new home." Teagan smiled sadly. "The fates of the miners in White Peaks prayed on her mind constantly, but since she was technically no longer a Russon there was nothing more she could do – and she was stubborn, unwilling to let me bring it up at a Landsmeet or even to my brother. So we moved on with our lives, and hoped Riley would see reason on his own."

"Then when I finally proposed a couple of months later… well, Maylene wanted to let her brother know. And I let her – it was her choice, and though he wanted nothing to do with her she still loved him. I should have known that he wouldn't have forgotten that we knew about the mines so easily. He must have seen her as a threat – thought that she would use her status as my wife as an opportunity to bring it up at a Landsmeet or something to that effect.

"He had been using the lyrium his was mining to buy the allegiance of a number of apostate mages – around a dozen all told. And he sent them after Maylene.

"Some of the miners found out, I think, and got a message to the Chantry, because a large group of templars arrived in Rainesfere that same day – two hours too late. Maylene and I were in the study at the estate when they arrived. They stunned all the guards and myself – I never want to be on the wrong end of a paralysis spell ever again. I watched, helpless, as they took her. And one of the mages warned me against going to fetch her, saying my life would be forfeit if I did.

"Why Riley didn't order my death I can only imagine – perhaps he knew that as a brother of an Arl my death would never go without notice or fuss. Nevertheless he seemed to be under the impression I valued my life to abandon Maylene. He was wrong.

"The templars followed the apostates to White Peaks, ordering me to stay in Rainesfere. I didn't. As soon as the vestiges of that spell had worn off I made for White Peaks myself with three of my knights. When we arrived, White Peaks was buried. Gone."

Teagan took a shaky gulp of wine and gripped the arm of the sofa with his free hand in an attempt to steady himself. "Two of the templars had managed to survive the disaster, fleeing the tunnels and taking refuge in an alcove in the mountainside. The templars tracked the mages and Riley into the winding mines of White Peaks, where they held Maylene hostage. There was a battle, involving magic and templar talents – and with the lyrium surrounding them, the templars easily overwhelmed the apostates. In a last bid for freedom one of the mages carelessly cast a fire ball explosion.

"But Riley's haste to improve White Peaks' fortunes meant he hadn't followed the correct safety procedures – the open veins were too long, too wide and too close together. The explosion shook the entire mountainside and the shoddy mines collapsed in on themselves, taking the mountain, White Peaks and Maylene with them.

"There was so much I could have done – _should _have done. But in my naivety I did nothing. And I lost May because of it. Of course Eamon found out about my relationship and the whole situation then, and chastised me for lying by omission but at that point I just didn't care. It took a year or so before I was fit enough to do anything useful – and even then I think that was only because I was sick of Eamon's Maker cursed lecturing. I never forgot her though – and I never will."

Silence reigned in the aftermath of Teagan's story for some time before Elissa stood up from her chair and stepped in front of Teagan. She leant over him to hang the locket back around his neck, her hand lingering on the pendant that hung in the centre of his chest. When she went to pull it away he reached up to grasp her hand, holding it over the locket and his heart. Their eyes met and locked.

"Elissa," he said gently, reaching up with his free hand to brush a tear off her cheek with his thumb. "You will never forget Alistair. You spent over a year together; day in day out in each other's facing unbelievable dangers at every corner, accomplishing remarkable things. No one will ever be able to replace what you had. But someone will be able to equal it, given the chance. You will always love him, but that doesn't mean you won't ever love again. It took me too long to realise that – don't waste opportunities like I did. As for Denerim…" he added with a small smile and a squeeze of her hand, "Denerim is much changed. And it's thanks to you and Alistair that it thrives like it does. Enjoy the celebrations and the ball because you helped it happen - plus enjoy watching your brother avoid every ass-kissing noble who wants his support at the Landsmeet."

Elissa laughed and at the gentle tug on her hand sat down next to Teagan. He put his arm across her shoulders and she leant against him, taking comfort in his warmth. They sat together in silence for a while, but before long Elissa had fallen asleep, her head resting against Teagan's reclined chest. Not wanting to wake her, the Bann of Rainesfere tugged at the blanket draped over the back of the sofa and spread it over their legs and settled back into the cushions. He watched the dying embers of the fire for a while longer, his hand idly toying with the locket around his neck before he too drifted off to sleep.

x.x.x

Zevran looked up as Darrian returned from the forest with a bundle of wood in his arms. "We'll be in Denerim by tomorrow afternoon, I reckon," he said, stoking the fire with a large branch.

Darrian dropped the pile of wood and made a quiet noise of assent. His movements were stiff and jerky, indicative of the tension that was evident through his whole body. Zevran cast a worried glance over his fellow rogue, knowing that such lack of composure was out of character for the younger elf.

"I've some contacts I can chase up while you're with your family," Zevran continued, feeding the fire while watching Darrian nervously palm his daggers, "and then I'll meet you outside the Alienage a little before sundown."

"Wh-what?" Darrian exclaimed, almost dropping his off-hand dagger. "You're not coming with me?"

"My dear Darrian," Zevran said. "Family reunions are not my forte."

"Well they're not mine either!"

Zevran raised an eyebrow at the shaky note in Darrian's voice and stood up, leaving the fire to burn. "You're a Grey Warden," he said cheekily. "A famed warrior of legend, able to face down darkspawn without so much as a blink and you're nervous about going to meet your own family?"

"When they think you've been dead for three years? Yes," Darrian admitted. "Clearly the others freed from Minrathous didn't think to tell my family that I was with them, or Soris would have known I was alive."

"Is it possible your family isn't talking to Soris because of his choice in life-partner?"

Darrian paused to consider this. "Shianni – possibly. Maker knows she used to bend my ear back over some of my partner choices. My father, not so much – family means everything to him, regardless of what they choose. He knew I was, erm, _adventurous_," Darrian said with a sheepish grin, "but he didn't confront me over it. As for Soris, he was a second son to my father – he wouldn't cut ties with him just because he married a human."

Zevran stood opposite Darrian and unsheathed his daggers. Darrian stood ready, grateful for Zev's distraction, knowing a good spar would settle his nerves. They began, the metal of their blades crashing together ringing around the glade.

"How about a compromise then," Zevran said between attacks and parries. "I accompany you to the Alienage, see what kind of reception you'll be getting and play it by ear from there?"

"That would be best, I think," Darrian said, countering one of Zevran's attacks. "I may need you to verify my story as well."

"Consider it done," Zevran said. He blocked Darrian's blade and smirked. "Darrian I do believe you just got a bit faster."

"Really?" Darrian said. "Must be the nerves. I do have a habit of working well under pressure." He stepped out of the duelist stance and hooked his foot around Zevran's, knocking him backwards. Zevran, who had seen the move but not reacted fast enough to block it, reached out and pulled Darrian down with him.

The two elves crashed into the dust, Zevran's hands and daggers at his sides, Darrians daggers point down in the earth, one either side of Zevran.

Zevran turned his head to look at the dagger either side of him and smirked. "You do realise with a move like that, you'd be dead by now," he said, poking Darrian in his ribs with the hilt of each dagger.

Darrian swallowed, Zevran's face scant inches away from his own, the Antivan's breath fanning his cheek. "I didn't expect you to... grab me like that." Before he realised what he was doing, Darrian had tilted his head and pressed his lips to Zevran's.

Zevran was slightly surprised at first, but in the spirit of things decided to go with it. Before Darrian could pull away and apologise, Zevran reciprocated and wasn't disappointed.

The two rogues battled as fierce with their tongues as they did with their blades, both letting go of their daggers to touch their opponent. Zevran's hands went to the back of Darrian's neck to pull him closer and Darrian's hands crept down the side of his torso.

"Well, well," Zevran said as they broke apart for air. "That was... unexpected."

"What can I say?" Darrian said cheekily, turning his lips to Zevran's ear and nipping the tip gently. Zevran made no verbal response but his body stiffened beneath Darrian's. "You bring out the worst in me."

"Or best," Zevran said with a surprised gasp as Darrian went to his neck. "Depending on your perspective."

Darrian smiled inwardly and continued to kiss the Antivan's fluttering pulse. Zevran grabbed Darrian's hair roughly and pulled the other rogue up for another kiss before the Ferelden could accidently eek anymore noise from him.

Darrian's hands set to work on Zevran's shirt and peeled it aside, pulling his lips away from Zevran's and his scalp from his grasp to trail his lips down the sculpted torso.

"I thought such practices," Zevran said breathlessly, "we frowned upon in the Alienage?"

Darrian smirked against Zevran's golden skin and looked up at the Antivan with smouldering green eyes. "Of course they are," he said against Zevran's abdomen. "Why do you think I didn't want to get married?"

Zevran laughed lightly and threw his head back in pleasure as Darrian worked his way lower. His last coherent thought was that his week with Darrian in Denerim was going to be a lot more fun than he initially expected.

x.x.x

_A/N: For those interested, the images picked for the coat of arms generally mean this:_

_Fox: One who will use all that he/she may possess of wisdom and wit in his/her own defense _

_Wheat sheaf: The harvest of one's hopes has been secured_

_Beaver: Industry and perseverance_

_Hammer: Honour; emblem of the smith's trade_

_Oof I'm glad I got this chapter done (for those of you who may have read the inadvertent spoilers when I accidentl uploaded my notes some months ago, you'll be aware I had Teagan's story written for some time). Next chapter update probably won't be for another week or two – still got a lot to write for that. Denerim, Denerim, Denerim – with Landsmeets and dancing, drama and family. Gonna be a big one (Unless I find a suitable place to split it. Hehe.)_

_Please review! :D They make me very very happy :D_


	10. Chapter 9: Denerim I

_Okay, so once again I missed my mental deadline that I set myself but once again I've been distracted lol. There was also a lot more in the chapter that I first thought – I was tempted to split it into two, but I couldn't find a nice enough break. I hope you don't mind long chapters :3_

**Chapter Nine: Denerim**

The carriage bumped on another hole in the road and Elissa winced as she was jostled in her seat. Opposite her, Leliana giggled and Teagan stifled his own chuckle with a discreet cough.

"Oh _Elissa_ your face was an absolute picture," Leliana said with another laugh. "I take it you're not used to riding in a carriage?"

"No," Elissa replied, a tad grumpily. Fergus sighed.

"I'm not a fan either," Fergus admitted, "but we haven't got enough horses in the yard for ourselves and the guards, so we're stuck with it until I've got enough surplus to go horse shopping."

"I know, I know," Elissa said. "That doesn't mean I have to keep a straight face when we run over a bump though." As if on cue, the carriage rocked again and Elissa pulled another face.

"You know, it would probably be a lot more comfortable for you if you hadn't insisted on wearing armour for the journey," Fergus added. Elissa shrugged.

"Perhaps."

"You're not going to wear armour all the way around Denerim are you?"

"Depends what kind of reception I get."

"Maker's breath," Fergus said, running a hand over his face. "What's the point in having guards if you're going to jump at the bandits yourself?"

"You never know what will happen," Elissa said matter-of-factly. Fergus sighed again and Elissa rolled her eyes. "Look, if we get to Denerim without incident then I give you permission to say 'I told you so'."

Teagan rescued her from more admonishments by distracting Fergus with some information on some minor bann or another. Elissa phased out the conversation around her (Leliana had jumped in with some snippet of gossip) and leant forward to rest her elbows on her knees. She regulated her breathing and tried to relax with the movement of the carriage to prevent her being tossed about too much. She was glad she had a light breakfast – anymore and she reckoned her stomach would be complaining a lot more than it was.

Her light meditations were rudely interrupted when a burning itch trailed under her skin, her blood singing in warning. Her head snapped up and she spun in her seat, flicking the catch on the case in the rack above her head and pulling out her swords.

"Andraste's ass, Elissa, what are you _doing_?" Fergus said irritably after dodging a metal clad elbow.

"Darkspawn," she said mechanically, strapping her blades to her back and tucking some knives into her boots. "About half a mile or so away and getting closer. No more than a dozen, but they know I'm here. Stay in the carriage. I'll meet up with you later."

Elissa reached for the door handle and looked at Leliana. "My bow is in the case," she said to her, "they should follow me, but keep an eye out for any stragglers."

Leliana nodded once. "Understood."

"What?" Fergus repeated as Elissa hopped out of the moving carriage. "Elissa!" he shouted out of the open door.

Leliana firmly pushed Fergus back into his seat and reached over to shut the door. She retrieved Elissa's bow and quiver from the case (the ancient Dalish-made bow was slightly heavier than her own, but she hopefully wouldn't need to use it for a long period of time) and set back into her seat, pulling open the door's window and keeping a watchful eye on the road.

"Leliana!" Fergus said. "Why did you let her go?"

Leliana smiled. "A mere dozen fiends against Elissa? The darkspawn won't know what's hit them."

x.x.x

On the road, Elissa relished the feel of the soft earth beneath her feet as she ran. She hoped she wasn't getting too overconfident (neither Madoc nor Darrian were with her after all) but she felt the darkspawn change their course away from the road.

_They are following me then,_ she thought with a relieved sigh. She slowed to a walk then stopped in the field, letting the darkspawn catch up to her. The taint was singing in her veins but still she waited, the oppressive presence closing in from all sides, the hairs standing up on the back of her neck.

Elissa sniffed the air and readied herself, gripping her blades tightly in her hands. _Shrieks. Eight of them. Odd that they are travelling in a group so large on the surface. No matter, _she thought, ducking under a bladed forearm as they emerged from the shadows to attack, _they'll die all the same_.

Elissa reversed her grip on one of her swords to gut one of her assailants from behind, her off hand blade swinging forward to slice the throat of the first attacker. She ducked under the slicing blades of two of the others, retrieving her stuck sword from the shriek behind her.

Now with all her enemies in an arc in front of her (for the moment, at least) Elissa swept out and in with both her blades, killing one more and wounding the others. _Three down, five to go._

Five was more manageable – a more common number for the scouting assassins. Her splintmail managed to deflect any of the slashing blades that she missed, and she avoided being overwhelmed (the last time that happened left half a dozen slashing scars on her torso that Wynne hadn't been able to fully remove – the dark of the Deep Roads was taking its toll on everyone by that point).

With the party of darkspawn dead, Elissa wiped her blades clean on some nearby grass (which shrivelled due to the burn of the taint) and sheathed them on her back. She had by some miracle managed to keep most of the blood from her person, with only a few splashes of it across the front of her armour and over her gauntlets. She made her way back to the road and followed it eastwards, the road bearing grooves in the dust from the wheels of a carriage.

It was a fair few miles later when she smelt the smoke of a camp fire. Dusk was settling in on the horizon, so she went on a guess (assuming the guard captain had picked a secure place off the road to camp) and, hoping it wasn't a nest of bandits, wound her way through the trees.

It was no bandit camp – tents were set up in a wide circle, and guards bearing the Cousland shield were stationed at the glade perimeter while the others finshed setting tents or readying food. They were not particularly vigilant, however, and any rogue would have been able to slip past easily, let alone a skilled one. Elissa frowned to herself. She fully accepted she was less trusting than her brother and was (potentially) a tad paranoid – nevertheless, immunity from the Crows or no, Elissa didn't like her brother having to rely on daydreaming men.

She walked calmly and quietly (not even properly _sneaking_) behind one of the perimeter guards and leant forward to speak into his ear. "Boo," she said simply.

The unsuspecting man jumped out of his skin with a shout and fell head over heels into a pile of chainmail and shield. Elissa stood over him with her hands on her hips, waiting patiently as the alarm was sounding and more guards (eventually) reacted to the commotion.

"Captain Rossberg," Elissa called as the guard captain came flying out of one of the tents, dressed in his chainmail leggings and undershirt. "Which of your men have you got on first watch for the night?"

"Myself and Frasier," he said, eyes darting to the young man scrambling off the floor. Elissa surmised that the boy she just scared was the guard in question.

"Take yourself off the watch detail, Captain," Elissa said tersely. "We will need you fresh in the morning. I will join Frasier for the first watch in your stead."

Rossberg frowned. "My lady, I assure you that won't be necessary..."

"No arguments, Rossberg," Elissa said, walking past the guards. "I am more than capable, as you are no doubt aware. You'll thank me in the morning when you've had a full nights rest."

"Ah – yes, Lady Cousland," he said, turning about and hollering at the gathered guards to get back to work.

"Elissa!" Fergus shouted, emerging from his tent. "By Andraste's knickers, where have you been?"

Elissa walked past her brother to the tent, pulling off her gauntlets as she did so. She shucked off her blood splashed cuirass and dropped it onto the floor outside the tent along with her gloves before turning back to Fergus, now taint-free – or so she thought.

"Elissa," Fergus said with a frustrated sigh. "Would you _please _answer my... Is that blood on your face?"

"Hmm?" Elissa reached up and wiped her cheek and looked at the smear of foul red on her fingertips. "Oh, it's not mine. I thought I managed to keep most of it off me this time as well. Oh well – I'll get a bucket of water in a second and wash off."

"Then it's _darkspawn_ blood? Elissa, get it off your face now!" He beckoned to a guard and asked him to fetch a bucket of water. "As quick as you can!" he added as the guard hurried off.

"Fergus, really," Elissa said, rubbing at the patch of blood. "I know what I'm dealing with. I've probably swallowed a lot more during the Blight." Fergus paled and Elissa inwardly grimaced. _Wrong thing to say... well done Elissa._

"Fergus," she said again, a bit more soothingly this time. The guard returned with a bucket of water and Elissa retrieved a washcloth from her pack in the tent, talking to her brother while she diligently washed her face. "There's no need to fuss. I am fully aware of the dangers of darkspawn blood and disease, but I am a Grey Warden. We're immune to it."

Fergus gave a disbelieving grunt. "Well, you'd have thought they'd share their magic secret with the rest of us. Immunize the masses – why the big secret?"

Elissa met Fergus' eyes squarely. "We pay a hefty price to become what we are," she said, remembering Duncan saying something not to dissimilar to her some other lifetime ago. "It's not something that I would want to inflict on the masses."

Fergus' frown deepened. "What price?"

"I can't tell you."

"Can't? Or won't?"

"Both," she admitted, wringing out the washcloth and tossing it aside. It'd be useless for washing now but she could use it as a rag to clean her mail before she threw it away. "Fergus. Don't ask me anymore. Please. One day..." she said with a sigh and a small, sad smile, "one day I will tell you. Until then, don't worry yourself about it."

Fergus opened his mouth to argue with her but decided against it. "Would father have asked you to Join if he knew?"

"There's no way he could have known. They are well kept secrets after all."

"But if he _knew_," Fergus said.

"But he _didn't_, so there's no need to even consider it." Elissa shrugged. "What is done is done. There's is nothing you or I can do to change it now."

Fergus tried a different question. "How did you know where the darkspawn were? And how many?"

"Grey Wardens can sense the darkspawn," she said simply, piling her armour and cleaning kit next to the log by the fire before sitting down with a rag.

Fergus looked at her expectantly, but when no further explanation was forthcoming his waved his hands in frustration. "And?"

"And what? That's it. We can sense them... and they can sense us."

"What?"

"Why do you think I hopped out of the carriage and ran off?" Elissa said, her arm moving in practiced circled over her dirty armour. "It wasn't just to fight to keep you safe – it was to draw them away." Elissa paused and looked off into the trees. "They're following the Wardens... and I don't know why."

Fergus crouched down so he was at eye level with Elissa. He hugged her from his bended knees, his arms going about her shoulders and his face into her neck. "We'll talk about this more when we get to Denerim," he said, pulling away. "I'm going to bed, " he added with a sigh.

"See you in the morning," Elissa said with a little wave as Fergus walked to his tent. "Dream well," she added.

"And you." The tent flapped close behind him and Elissa continued with her work.

Sometime later the bustle about camp died down, the guards going to their tents. The young guard on watch detail with Elissa hovered nervously near the fire just in the corner of Elissa's peripheral vision.

"Maker's breath, man," she said with a laugh after a while. "Would you sit down? I'm not going to eat you!"

"Y-y-yes my lady," the boy stammered, setting down on the log opposite Elissa. Elissa checked her armour over for any more splashes of blood and, deeming it satisfactory, set it aside. She looked over to the young guard who was avoiding her eye contact, looking around nervously at the surrounding trees.

Elissa shook her head and laughed to herself softly. "I'm not here to intimidate you," she said gently but firmly. "I don't need much sleep nowadays and I do truly believe the captain needs as much as he can for the morning. But I also wanted to talk to you."

"T-talk, my lady?"

Elissa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "What's your name, where are you from and why have you joined the castle guard?"

"Ah... well..." the young man hesitated. "I'm Elton Frasier, I was born and raised in Highever – father is a fisherman, mother a stall merchant. They run a business together on the docks."

"Ah, I thought the name Frasier was familiar," Elissa admitted. "Though, if you don't mind me asking, why life as a guard? Surely you'd be helping with the family business and the fleet?"

"My four siblings are doing just that," Elton admitted. "But I..."

"Yes?" Elissa prompted.

"Igetseasick," Elton admitted in a embarrassed rush, his cheeks flushing. "And I don't have a head for business, so me mam says."

"So you decided to go for a guard position when my brother was looking?"

"Yes, my lady."

Elissa raised an eyebrow sceptically and Elton sighed. "My sister's fiancé suggested I go to the recruitment office with him," he amended. "But I've settled into it well enough, and the teyrn is good to us soldiers."

"Captain Rossberg obviously saw something in you to bring you along to Denerim."

"I hope so, my lady."

"He didn't seem very impressed that I caught you unawares, mind."

"Ah... no my lady," Frasier said, bowing his head in shame.

"Elton," Elissa said gently, and the young man looked up. "I'm not going to lie to you. Had I been any kind of skilled enemy, it is very likely you would be dead by now. And who knows, had the enemy been particularly skilled and slipped by your comrades too, my brother may have been dead too." Elton went pale and looked horrified at the suggestions Elissa was making, so she pressed her point across.

"I'm not going to berate you or punish you," she said. "We all make mistakes, and this time no one was hurt. However, I will say that my brother places a lot of faith in his guards – a lot more, if you don't mind me saying, than I would. Not because I doubt your skill," she added hastily with a smile, "but just because I'm a paranoid warrior who is used to having to watch out for herself.

"In short, my brother trusts you, but I want you to really work for it. Your obviously talented, and have a lot of potential – make him proud, and let me sleep a little easier knowing he's under the watchful guard of someone I can trust too."

Frasier nodded earnestly, and sat a little straighter, emboldened by Elissa's talk (and relieved that he was not about to get a tongue-lashing from Lady Cousland). Elissa glanced at hourglass at the fire's edge and saw that it had nearly run out.

"Go wake the second watch," she said, standing up and stretching, "then get some rest. I'll see you in the morning Frasier."

x.x.x

Zevran raised an eyebrow at Darrian who was toying with a carved wooden circlet on his index finger while standing at the gates to the Alienage, looking at the bridge over the river. He was ramrod straight and utterly still save for his left leg which was dancing slightly, the boot scuffing the road dirt.

"Nervous?"

"What?" Darrian said quickly. "Do I look it?"

"You're a little on edge, that's for certain," Zevran said. "And after all my work massaging you last night... tsk, I'm going to have to do it all over again with the knots you manage to wind yourself into."

Darrian smirked slightly, grateful for the attempt at a distraction. "I'm sorry Zev. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"I look forward to it," he replied with a smirk.

The pair lapsed into silence again, Darrian still fiddling with the ring and visibly hesitating.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea," he said.

"And why not?"

"If they think I'm dead, surely it's better this way? I mean," Darrian turned away from the gates to look at Zevran, "Shianni's going to kill me anyway, and it's not like being a Grey Warden is a safe career choice and... _Maker's breath_, my father's going to be so disappointed... but then there was nothing new there since I never was really going to commit to a family and a perfect Alienage lifest-,"

"Darrian!" Zevran cut in. "You're babbling. _Calm down_. I'm not expert on family matters but if your cousin's reaction in Highever is indicative of your family's mindset I don't think you've got anything to worry about."

Darrian ran a hand over his face and took a few deep breaths. "Right," he said decisively to himself, turning on his heel and striding purposefully across the bridge. He stopped again at the Alienage entrance. Children were playing in the newly cobbled streets and it was cleaner than he remembered. The drains had been fixed and extended so filthy water was taken to the river and not just left to pool in the street. The arrangement of the houses seemed the same, still cramped and close quartered, but they were less ramshackle and shabby.

"They've been busy," Zevran commented at Darrian's shoulder. "The last time I was here only the drains had been repaired.

The Alienage itself was quite quiet – it was midmorning of the first day of the week: dockworkers would be bringing in the trade of the newly arriving ships, servants would be shopping for their masters and wives would be at the markets shopping for the home. There were children running the street – until a bell from a nearby building was sounded. They scuttled back into the new school hall, some laughing, some grumbling, and Darrian smiled.

"That wasn't here when I was growing up," he commented as he walked up to the vhenadahl and rested a hand on it. "We had classes in the hahren's front room – or under here if the weather was nice. I remember climbing to the top of here too," he added fondly, looking up at the gnarled branches. "I got in so much trouble with Valendrian – and my mother made a show of being disappointed, but when we got home she was laughing. She said that trees were meant to be appreciated like that, and the best viewpoints for hunting would be from the top of such a tree."

"So she encouraged you?"

"Not exactly," Darrian said with a grin. "But she didn't actively discourage it either."

"_Maker's blood_."

Darrian and Zevran turned at the surprised exclamation and there was a crash as the third elf, a man with vivid ginger hair, dropped a box of poultices and salves. From the sounds of things they were just rattled, the box having padded carefully, but Zevran would wager at least half a dozen of the small flasks would have cracked if not broken completed.

"Darrian," the box carrier said. "Maker's breath, _Darrian_."

"Alarith," Darrian said with a broad smile. Alarith stepped over his box of wares and closed the distance between the two elves in three long strides, embracing Darrian when he got there. Darrian hugged him back tightly and hid his face in Alarith's shoulder. Though they were sheltered by the vhenadahl, he wasn't about to disgrace himself with tears in the open like this.

"By Andraste's flaming britches," Alarith swore again, stepping back to look Darrian over keeping one hand on Darrian's shoulder as if to assure himself he was real. "We thought you were _dead_! Where have you been? What happened?"

Darrian ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I turned myself in after that Vaughan fiasco..."

"I know that part," Alarith said, a little impatiently.

"...but they didn't kill me. They sold me to slavers." Alarith swore again.

"How'd you get out?"

"With a little help from a Grey Warden," Darrian said with a smile.

"Huh, they seem to be alright those Grey Wardens. We had one help us when some slavers came to town."

"It was the same one."

"What?"

"Elissa? Hero of Ferelden? She sprung me – all of us, actually, Tobias, Elodie and the rest – from our cages in Minrathous. And yeah, she's alright," Darrian said with a grin.

"You were with Tobias?" Alarith asked. "Why didn't he say anything?"

"I don't know – I'm sure they'd have had their reasons," Darrian said with a shrug. "They were probably too busy getting on with their lives – and I don't blame them."

Zevran watched the two elves chatter in the shade of the tree and was getting a little intrigued. Their familiarity and easy closeness went beyond normal friendship. He made a mental note to ask Darrian about the merchant later.

"So what are you doing now?" Alarith said, "Are you going to stay?"

"No – I'm a Grey Warden now," Darrian admitted sheepishly. "I'll be off wherever Elissa goes next – she sent me to Denerim ahead of her to sort out family things."

"Well you won't find Soris here," Alarith started. "He married a shem of all things and moved to Highever."

"I know," Darrian said. "I bumped into him while I was there. He's doing well. But never mind about Soris, how are _you_ doing?"

"Well, Shianni managed to wrangle me a full merchant's license – no more under the table goods for me now, all legitimate now." Alarith flushed slightly and hesitated. "I got married again," he said quietly.

"Oh-o?" Darrian said with a grin, hip-checking Alarith playfully. "Who's the lucky lady? She must be something special for you to remarry – especially after Nimriel."

"Nimriel was special, it's true."

"And she wouldn't have wanted you to be a lonely widower forever," Darrian teased.

"I wasn't lonely," Alarith said quietly, "and you know that."

Zevran resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at Darrian over Alarith's shoulder. _Definitely asking him about that later._

"Well, still," Darrian said, "what's she like? Do I get to meet her?"

"You already have," Alarith said. "She's a lovely lady and got a sharp business mind with some great ideas – and we had one thing in particular in common."

Darrian racked his brains and tried to piece it together and failed. "Nah. Can't think. I've not been here for three years after all."

"Nesiara, you fool," Alarith said with a laugh. "After were gone – well, not gone, but you know, we _thought_ you were – she was so upset. Her parents tried to get her to go back to Highever, but she insisted on staying in Denerim – she gets on really well with your father and Shianni."

"That's fantastic news!" Darrian said with a relieved laugh. "Maker, I was so worried – I'd have been a bloody awful husband, I know, so I'm glad she's got someone who'll treat her right."

"You'll have to come and visit us once you're free," Alarith said. "She'll be so glad to see you – and you'll get to meet our son as well."

"Maker's breath," Darrian said with another laugh. "Look at you, well and truly settled down! What's his name? How old is he?"

"He'll be two years old in the autumn. And, well... he's called Darrian. Nesiara's idea, but of course I agreed with her. Couldn't think of a better name for him."

Darrian took a step back and leant against the tree. "You... but... _Alarith_," Darrian said, running his hand nervously through his hair. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, old friend," Alarith said, reaching forward to rest his hand against Darrian's cheek. "You deserved honouring, so we did so." Alarith withdrew his touch reluctantly and turned back to retrieve his dropped box. "Pop around this evening sometime. We'll crack a bottle open for old time's sake."

"I will," Darrian said with a smile as Alarith walked towards his shop. "Give Nesiara my best."

"I'll have to persuade her I haven't got mad, first," Alarith said with a laugh. "If you haven't seen Valendrian yet, you better grab him quick before Shianni comes back from the palace infuriated over something or other."

Darrian was still leaning against the tree in mild shock as the door clicked shut behind Alarith. Zevran had to laugh at little at his expression. "Well, your return was well received there," he commented.

"Yeah," Darrian said with a smile.

"He married your betrothed?"

"Looks like it," the Ferelden replied with a laugh. "I'm glad. Nesiara's a lovely lady and deserves someone like Alarith. His first wife, Nimriel, died of one of the plague's that rips through here every year or so. Alarith was devastated, threw himself into the store and... other lucrative activities," Darrian added, clearing his throat.

Zevran stepped closer to listen to what Darrian was saying under his breath. "He was one of my fences for a while – he gave it all up when he married Nim, to settle down properly, and I've no doubt he's done the same now for Nesiara, but those years in between... I was young," Darrian said with a shrug. "Foolish. Looking for a bit of adventure, you know?"

"A thief?"

"And a damned good one," Darrian said with a grin. "The nobles had a name for me and everything. But – _Andraste's tits_ – I can't believe they named their son after me. _Me_!"

"If you don't mind me saying so," Zevran ventured, "you seemed a lot closer than two friends who have dabbled in crime."

"Ah. Yes, well." Darrian flushed and scratched the back of his head. "Alarith may have been the first to show me that my door swings both ways. So to speak."

Zevran chuckled. "No need to look so sheepish, Warden. I had already guessed, I just wanted to confirm it. Now... perhaps a visit to your Alienage elder is in order? I believe your friend mentioned Shianni would go there from her meetings at the palace – two birds with one stone, so to speak."

Darrian nodded and led the way to Valendrian's house – or at least where he remembered Valendrian's house used to be. He knocked on the door, and heard the old elf call his permission to enter from inside. He opened the door hesitantly and stepped inside, Zevran close behind. The assassin shut the door behind them both as Darrian padded softly into the room.

Valendrian was hunched over his desk, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he read through a pile of papers. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asked without looking up. "Only, I've just had the latest list of matches from Highever which I really need to-,"

"Hello, hahren," Darrian cut in smoothly.

Valendrian stopped for a moment before setting his quill back into its stand. He looked up from his desk and let out a long breath. "Well, I'll be damned," he said as he stood up. "Darrian Tabris. Welcome home."

The two elves gripped each other's forearms in welcome and Darrian smiled. "Not too surprised to see me then?"

"Viv did tell me that you were with them in Minrathous," Valendrian said, taking off his glasses and setting them on the table. "And how you went off with the Grey Warden. Given the whole uncertainty of the situation and the rumours that the Warden Joining can kill, we decided not to tell your family – they were just getting over your supposed death at the hands of the Denerim guards. I thought it best not to get their hopes up if you were to die elsewhere. Forgive me for not having faith in you – I should have known you would pull through."

"I trust your judgement, hahren," Darrian said. "And you made the right call. Unfortunately the joining is more luck a game of chance than a test of skill – I just got lucky."

Voices outside the door interrupted their conversation. "Nobles! I hate nobles. They're so _infuriating_. Saying one thing when meaning another – it's all bullshit!"

"_Shianni_," came a calmer male voice. "Unfortunately that is politics. It's difficult, but this way we can get our people's needs heard."

"Yeah, and one day they might actually listen instead of pretending to. Honestly they must think we're all _stupid_." On "stupid" the door burst open and Shianni rushed inside, Cyrion at her heels.

"Hahren," Shianni started, "I'll need all the ledgers for the repairs we've done on the southern wall. The guards broke it so I'm bloody well going to make the guards... _I don't believe it_."

Zevran stepped backwards out of the way as Shianni barrelled forward, pulling Darrian into her arms and holding tightly. Darrian returned the embrace gently and kissed the crown of Shianni's head.

"You... you... they say you died!"

"Maybe I did and this is all a dream," Darrian started to joke, but then Shianni whacked his arm. Hard. "Ow! You know you're supposed to pinch yourself in dreamlike situations?"

"Hitting you is much more convincing," she said dryly. To prove her point she did it again around his head.

"Ow!"

Cyrion approached his son and his niece slowly. His face was pale, his hands were shaking and his features were contorted into a form of grimace, half pain and half disbelief, his lips twitching as he attempted to hold his composure.

"Son?" he said hoarsely. "Is that really you? When they said they killed you... I didn't want to believe it."

Darrian disentangled himself from Shianni's arms to gently embrace his father, burying his face in the crook of the older man's neck. His shoulders shook slightly and for a moment he wished Zevran wasn't there – crying would be a lot easier without fear of embarrassment.

"My son," Cyrion whispered in disbelief. "Oh, _my boy_. What are you doing here?" he said, stepping backwards to look up at his only child. "If the guards recognise and find you they'll -,"

"Be confronted with this document from his superior officer," Zevran interjected smoothly, holding brandishing a sealed parchment letter Elissa gave him before they left 'in case of any trouble.' "The Hero of Ferelden will not take kindly to any abuse of her second."

"Hero of Ferelden...?" Cyrion repeated. "You're... a Grey Warden?"

Shianni looked at Darrian, impressed. "Go you cousin! Guess that explains why you're walking around armed to the teeth without any repercussions."

"_Repercussions_?" Darrian repeated with a grin, turning to his cousin. "Hark at you, _Bann Shianni_, user of big words and politician extrodinnaire!"

"Oh... _shut up_," Shianni said, hitting her cousin's arm again as Darrian started laughing.

Valendrian stepped past the reunited family to shut his door. "Tea?" he asked no one in particular.

"Something stronger," Shianni said, reaching into the pack on her shoulder. "There are some benefits to these noble meetings after all," she said, producing a bottle of brandy. "I didn't steal it! It was a gift," she added defensively at seeing the disapproving look on Valendrian's face.

"That wasn't what I was inferring," Valendrian said, "it's not even midday yet."

"It's midday in Arlathan," Shianni said stubbornly, using the excuse many elves used for drinking at this time of day. Darrian started laughing again, feeling like he was walking on air. He went over to Zevran and gently brushed the Antivan's shoulder while his family weren't looking. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"For what?"

"Getting me through that gate," Darrian said, "and being here when I know you have more important things to do." Darrian's hand trailed down the outside of Zevran's arm and to his hand, where Darrian lightly and briefly brushed his fingertips against Zevran's. "I'll definitely make it up to you later. I promise."

x.x.x

Some days later in Denerim, Elissa was trying to wrest her sword from her brother's hands.

"No weapons?" she said disbelievingly. "What do you mean no weapons? It's a Landsmeet!"

Fergus rolled his eyes. "Precisely. It's a Landsmeet. Anora was adamant that words be the only weapons in a Landsmeet, in the interests of fairness and cultural progression."

Elissa huffed. "I don't like being without one. Who knows what will happen?"

The Teyrn sighed and lifted Starfang from his sister's hands to set it back on its stand. "You share the sentiments of every warrior and fighter in the nobility, Elissa. But rules are rules."

"I don't even know why I'm going," Elissa grumbled.

"You're going because I need you there." Fergus made sure Starfang was secure and turned to hug his sister. "Please? Just this once. If you're bored out of your brain then I'll not ask again."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Fergus kissed Elissa's forehead and turned to leave the room. "Now, get out of that armour and find yourself something less imposing to wear. No buts!" he added with a laugh as Elissa started to protest.

"Ass!" Elissa shouted as Fergus shut the door behind him.

Minutes later, when Elissa was wriggling out of her armour and going through her clothes while in her under shirt and cotton trousers, there was another knock at the door.

"I'm not decent," she called out irritably.

"Is that supposed to stop me coming in?" Zevran drawled. The door opened bit and Zevran slipped inside. "You're perfectly decent," he commented. "In fact, I'd wager I've already seen you wearing less. I'm disappointed."

"Oh shush you," Elissa said, going behind the screen and taking off her armour's underclothes. "I've just been told I'm not allowed to wear armour to the Landsmeet. And now I don't know what to wear."

"How about that blue dress?" Zevran said, looking at the garment hanging off the wardrobe door. The silk was a lovely vivid blue with long sleeves, trimmed and embroidered with silver. Elissa huffed.

"Not wearing a dress to a Landsmeet," she said grumpily. "Besides, that's for the ball tonight."

"Well then," Zevran said, going through the pile of clothes in Elissa's trunk. "Here. Put on these," he said, handing the garments over the top of the screen.

Elissa pulled on the clothes dutifully and stepped out from behind the screen. She was in a soft white shirt under a sleevless leather jerkin with trails of laurel leaves embroidered down each side in blue and silver thread. She pulled on Soris' boots over her green brocade trousers and stood up with a flourish.

"There," Zevran said proudly. "Formal yet relaxed, and not a dress. Happy?"

"I'd be happier in armour," she said, looking at Zevran in his leathers enviously. "But thank you nonetheless. Are you going too?"

"Me? No, no, no," Zevran said with a laugh. "They already have issue with Shianni being there, perhaps best not to add more elves to the mix. Darrian and I are going to be about Denerim. Not sure what we're going yet but..."

"O-ho?" Elissa queried with a smirk. "You seem to be getting along well with your student."

"Well that's one way to put it," Zevran said, mirroring Elissa's smirk.

"How did his family reunion go?"

"Well, I'm no expert on these things but it seemed to go well," the assassin said. "Tears from most involved is normal during such an event, yes?"

"If my reunion with Fergus was anything to go by then yes I'd say so," Elissa replied.

"Tears aside they were very happy to see him. I think he's down there now helping Shianni prepare for her first Landsmeet."

"She'll be fine."

"Of that I have no doubt," Zevran said with a chuckle. "It's the nobles standing near her that should be nervous." Zevran stretched, the bones in his back and neck popping loudly. "Now your clothing crisis is averted, I must see your brother before you depart. Enjoy the Landsmeet, Elissa."

Elissa sighed as Zevran left and went to her weapons cache. She picked up one of the smaller daggers she owned and contemplated slipping it inside her boot. It was elven made, a gift from one of the Dalish clans in the forests of Arlathan. She pulled the curved blade from its embossed sheath and looked at the leaf engravings for a moment. She sheathed it and placed it back in the box – if Anora said no weapons, then she would go with no weapons, no matter how uncomfortable she was.

x.x.x

Elissa had only ever seen the Landsmeet chamber twice before in her life.

Once, when she was fourteen, accompanying her Father to a Landsmeet. Oriana was nearing the end of her pregnancy and Fergus refused to leave her, so Elissa had persuaded her father to take her instead. It was probably the only time she'd been on her utmost best behaviour while in Denerim (and the only time she requested to go to the capital, no doubt) since she was determined that year (after being confronted with her first potential suitors) to prove her worth and be seen as a capable potential noble, not just a noble-baby-maker.

The second was the Landsmeet during the Blight. Well, we all know how well _that_ went.

She'd never appreciated how grand it was. The wood on the balconies was all beautifully carved, and the standard of each arling or teyrnir hung on the wall behind each one. The carpets on the floor where the bannorn stood were fairly new and the throne on the dias had been replaced with one a mite smaller.

Elissa frowned as she looked at the new sculpture on the wall above the throne dias, but on closer inspection she realised it wasn't a sculpture at all. A dragon's skull was bolted to the wall, a sword wedged in the bone between its eye sockets. Elissa peered at the sword handle and she felt as if her heart had dropped out of her stomach.

That was not the skull of just any dragon, but the Archdemon. And wedged in the bone was Maric's sword.

Alistair's sword.

She understood now why the statue in Weisshaupt was mainly carved with incorrect runes – the sculptor could not see any more than those near the hilt since the blade was obviously stuck in the Archdemon's skull. Elissa felt a little swell of pride that Alistair had managed to leave an odd lasting legacy, showing the world without a doubt that it was he who landed that final blow.

She dragged her attention away from the imposing skull (she had to give Anora credit for creating a statement with it) and back to the now almost full hall. Whispers and chatter drifted up from the stalls and Elissa noted that a lot of heads were turned her way. Clearly her arrival in Denerim wasn't as well-publicised as she first thought.

She looked back at the dias again and noticed Ser Cauthrien standing at the corner, a respectable distance away from the throne but no so far as not to be at the Queen's side if necessary. There eyes met and Elissa nodded respectfully to the knight. Surprisingly enough, Cauthrien returned the gesture – Elissa hadn't had a chance to talk to Loghain's former second since the Blight but then again she didn't exactly picture Cauthrien as the talking type.

Trumpets blazed outside the Chamber and the doors were opened. Elissa watched Anora walk gracefully down the carpet through the banns of Ferelden, her head high and her eyes fixed on the throne on the dias. She was dressed smartly but not extravagantly, and her hand bore only two rings – one, a state ring of Ferelden bearing the Calenhad crest, the other Elissa recognised as her wedding ring from when she married Cailan.

Anora turned to face her lords and ladies when she got to the throne on the dias. She bowed to the Grand Cleric in the corner booth, who returned the gesture. Anora's eyes flitted around the upper balconies where her arls and teyrns resided and her eyes stopped on Elissa. Perhaps it was a trick of the light but Elissa could have sworn she saw a ghost of a smile play on Anora's lips when she saw her.

Anora sat down on her throne and the Landsmeet begun, the Chancellor reading through the agenda. There was much shouting and arguing in places, but Anora and her Chancellor handled it well. Fergus, too, seemed to have settled well into his political role, delivery his report confidently and arguing for some of the proposals (and against some of the others) with the same strength and skill. Elissa for her part was mainly silent save for when she was whispering suggestions or comments to Fergus, or helping Leliana (who was there as Rory's eyes and ears) make notes.

Partway through Elissa was sure she felt Darrian quite close by. She couldn't pinpoint his location or see him, but he was in the Chamber somewhere. Clearly his curiosity had got the better of him and he had snuck inside – but it also said something about the tightness of the security that he was here. Darrian was skilled, true, but there were others like him. She made a mental note to bring it up with Cauthrien later.

After the Landsmeet recess, a lot of the minor lords had left since they were not required to be present for that portion of the proceedings. The floor was less packed now, with only the larger bannorn lords present.

Elissa paused and scratched the top of her hand. Her senses were tingling, the blood in her veins burning – not darkspawn, but someone tainted, someone with murderous intent and his blood rate quickening, and someone she did not know. Darrian was still nearby but his taint wasn't singing for the thrill of a hunt. Elissa stepped forward to the balcony's edge to get a better view of the Chamber, eyes scanning the throng of lords and ladies.

From the shadows on one of the lower balconies Elissa saw a flash of steel and the point of a crossbow – pointing at the Queen! She didn't think, she just acted, hopping over the balcony (to many shouts of surprise) and sprinting across the hall.

Elissa, her senses heightened by her taint and the presence of this tainted assailant, heard the click of the crossbow and the whirr as the bolt whizzed through the air. She was bowled onto her back as she ran into its line of fire, the bolt wedged into the hollow of her shoulder.

"Assassin!" she shouted.

Cauthrien reacted instantly, jumping in front of Anora and shielding the Queen from any further attacks. Elissa could feel the frustration of the assailant through their shared taint, and heard a clatter as the crossbow was tossed aside. The Banns scattered, most moving towards the doors and fleeing the Chamber.

"Shut those doors!" Elissa shouted. "Don't let him escape!"

Elissa felt a rustle of movement behind her and dodged the stealthed assassin. This one wasn't tainted – clearly the crossbowman wasn't working alone. She ducked and dived under the flurrying blades as fast as she could and grasped for the only weapon she had – the steel crossbow bolt in her shoulder.

She wrenched the bolt free, blood blooming on her white shirt and trickling down her arm. She parried one of the daggers and grabbed the attackers wrist of the hand that held the other, using her superior strength to kick him in his most delicate area forcefully and throw him into the wall.

Alfstanna had jumped down from her balcony (like several other parts of Ferelden, though now only a bannorn, Waking Seas used to be an Arling and had kept its traditional balcony post for Landsmeets) and was shouting orders to the scrambling guards. An assassin appeared from the shadows behind her and before Elissa could shout a warning Alfstanna had reached into the sleeve of her shirt and stabbed her attacker before he could strike, kicking the wounded man aside.

The crossbowman had moved to the Landsmeet floor (now empty, save for a few of the braver banns – Teagan amongst them) and Elissa could get a better look at him. He was tainted, true, but not in the corrupted sense. Her mouth dropped open in realisation.

"You're a _Warden_," she said in disbelief as the tall man advanced on her. Elissa was wishing she had done like Alfstanna and kept a hidden blade about her person now. She ducked under one swinging axe and attempted to parry the other with the bolt – which promptly snapped under the force.

"I am _not_," the man snarled in an accent Elissa had trouble placing, "one of them."

"But you are," Elissa said with a smirk (why was she smiling? Her arm was bleeding and she was facing a heavily armed man with only a stub of a crossbow bolt as a weapon). "I can feel it in you."

Elissa regretted provoking him while unarmed as she was kicked backwards onto the floor. She rolled left, the axe cutting into the carpet floor uselessly, then right to dodge the second blow. She hastened to her feet and ducked another swinging attack, when some loud swearing made them both pause.

There was a crash from the Gwaren balcony and another assassin was thrown violently over the barrier. He crashed into the crossbowman and both were sent sprawling to the floor. Darrian hopped lightly from the balcony to the Chamber floor and was quickly at Elissa's side.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "We found that one skulking around and he was a bit of a bother."

"We?" Elissa queried.

"Me and Zev. He should be down shortly."

As if on cue there was a scream as another assassin was pushed over the balcony landing on the floor with a sickening crack. Zevran appear on the balcony ledge, bloodied dagger in hand.

"And to think," he said loudly, "that I thought Ferelden was getting boring!"

Elissa laughed and turned to Darrian again. "What were you _doing_ up there anyway?" she asked, looking him up and down. His buckles were all clipped wrong and his armour was in a general state of disarray. There was also the ghost of a love bit visible on his neck where his hair was pushed back behind his ear.

"Oh you didn't," she said. Darrian grinned sheepishly – a grin which faltered as the Warden-assassin pushed his groaning comrade off him and got to his feet. Darrian frowned in concentration and looked the angry man up and down.

"He feels... odd," Darrian said, confused.

"He's a Warden," Elissa explained.

"I am NOT!" the man shouted.

"Oh yeah, so he is," Darrian said flippantly. The man growled in rage and Darrian handed Elissa his sword, taking his two daggers for himself.

"Oops," Darrian said. "May have touched a nerve."

"Elissa!" Zevran shouted, tossing down one of his swords to her. She caught it deftly and grinned her thanks at her friend.

"Darrian," she said, "help Cauthrien get the Queen out of here. Don't let anyone near her without Cauthrien's say so," 

"Aye, aye," Darrian said, hurrying off.

Elissa jumped into battle which, now she was properly armed, went quickly. The man was skilled and fast, but Elissa had fought better opponents before. On top of that, he was focused on the kill while she was focused on capture. His guard was solid around vital points but not on the areas Elissa was going for. She slashed at his knee and his elbow, making him stagger, and forced him to the floor. She got him to drop his weapons and held him there, her blades crossing at his neck.

"Your name and your employer, if you please," she said with a smile. "Or I will make this very painful for you."

"Fine," he said angrily. "Do you worst. It can't be any worse than this poison inside me – the poison inside _you_," he added. "Do you really feel proud dancing to their tune when they are the ones who have effectively killed you?"

Elissa hesitated, not because of the question but because a loud interrogation where Warden secrets would be revealed was not wise in this setting. She didn't have to worry about that, however, because the doors to the Landsmeet chamber burst open and a small group of armed men and women entered. One shot an arrow from her bow through the assassin's eye and he slumped forward at Elissa's feet, dead.

Elissa shouted angrily at the newcomers. "What the hell are you doing?" she said to the newcomers.

"Ah," the leader of the newcomers said. "Warden-Commander. What a pleasant surprise. I suppose we were lucky you were here – we were running a little late."

"I'm not the Warden-Commander," Elissa said, tucking her borrowed blades into her belt. The newcomers were all Wardens, four all told, each bearing some form of the griffon crest be it belt or embossed on their armour. She tore off her ruined sleeve angrily and pressed the folded linen to her wound to stem the bleeding. "And you have me at a disadvantage, Warden."

"Ah – truly? Then the word from Weisshaupt must be incorrect," he said. Elissa felt her skin prickle and forced herself to calm down. "I am Senior Warden Emiren, Sister, of Kirkwall in the Free Marches. Perhaps we could continue this discussion... somewhere more private?"

The remaining banns were being ushered from the hall, and Alfstanna was co-ordinating the clean-up. Elissa nodded to her fellow Warden sharply, seeing that everything was under control.

"Darrian," she called over her shoulder. The elf rogue was at her side quickly and she handed him back his sword. "Inform Her Majesty that I will report to her as soon as I can. Stay with her and be alert. We do not know whether there are more assassins about. Where is Zevran?"

"Scouting the castle walls to see if there are any others."

"Good. And Leliana?"

"Turning her charms on the guards to try and find the leak."

"Perfect. What about my brother?"

"With the Queen."

"Excellent – double the reason for you to stay with them. I'll be up as soon as I can."

Darrian eyed Senior Warden Emiren suspiciously before he turned to go. "Don't be too long. You need to get that wound stitched up," he said by means of farewell as he walked towards the exit.

Elissa led the way up the stairwell to the balconies and the private back room for the Teyrn of Highever. She shut the door behind them and locked it for safe measure.

"So Ferelden Wardens answer to their Queen?" Emiren asked.

"No," Elissa said. "_I_ answer to my Queen. As you are no doubt aware by now, I am still considered of a noble house. Therefore when Her Majesty requests my presence, I attend."

"Your priorities seem to be a little skewed, Sister."

Elissa laughed bitterly. "_My_ priorities? Why are you questioning _my_ priorities when darkspawn still plague the North Road scant miles away from where the Wardens are based? I know where my priorities are – for the good of the Wardens security in Ferelden we have to make sure we do not aggravate the political apple-cart. Poorly managed politics was how they were banished from here after all."

Emiren did not reply to that, so Elissa continued. "Who was that Warden?"

"A rather skilled freelance assassin called Kerron," Emiren replied sadly. "He was conscripted before he was due to be executed. However, he did not take to being a Warden well, since it turned out some of his fellows had organised an escape on the day of the execution. Nevertheless, he survived the Joining... then swiftly escaped some weeks later."

"Why did you kill him? He should have been kept for questioning!"

"His motives and his employer are none of our concern, Sister," the Marches Warden replied tersely. "He was a threat to the security of the Order and our secrets and abandoning his duty to defend against the darkspawn. The Wardens have no interest in nation politics."

"No? Clearly, dear _Brother_, you have not been to the Anderfels."

Emiren's lips tightened in mild annoyance. "If you feel things ought to have been handled differently then your path is clear, Sister. The Orlesian Commander gave us a free reign to do what we wished with our fugitive."

Elissa's eyes narrowed. "You knew I hadn't accepted the Commander position."

"Of course," the Warden replied smoothly. "Not officially anyway. Though, if your priorities are as you say, you will reconsider the offer." Emiren reached into his satchel and pulled out a letter bearing the Weisshaupt seal.

"The First Warden eagerly awaits a reply," Emiren continued. "We would be most grateful if you assumed the position of Commander – it would help to help secure the Order in Ferelden if one of its own people was leading the detachment here."

Elissa sighed and looked at the commission papers in front of her. She knew why she was hesitating – she wanted her duty to be Fergus' captain and second, to help him with Highever like she always wanted. That was all she ever wanted. Now, she was a Warden, for better or for worse. Duncan's dark words to Jory from their Joining returned to her.

_There is no turning back._

Elissa sighed. Duty was never something you could choose. She supposed she should have learnt that by now. She quickly turned to the desk at the back of the room and hastily scratched her name with the quill and sealed the wax with her Cousland signet ring.

"There," she said irritably, handing the papers back to Emiren. "Now, if you will excuse me, I've a number of affairs to attend to before I start in Amaranthine."

"The Order is in your debt, my sister," Emiren said with a smile.

Elissa paused at the door and laughed bitterly. "Of course. Like I haven't heard that before," she said icily.

x.x.x

_Okay, so I did end up splitting this chapter (wait and see for _Denerim II_) because it started getting mega mega long... the next chapter is short in comparison but also a tad steamy ;D_

_Please review! I do love getting them, even if I am the worst author in the world, making promises I never keep lol. Denerim II should be up fairly soon, all being well :)_

_Love love_

_~paa x_


	11. Chapter 10: Denerim II

_Apologies for the (ridiculously) late update again... unfortunately real life has bitten me hard on the ass recently. As a result, I'm not sure how regularly I will be able to update this, but I will try – I have up to chapter 24 planned after all :D _

_...and then of course, Fable 3 came out and all thoughts of DA were pushed aside for roguish and bloody unromanceable soldiers... _

_...then I arrived late to the Assassin's Creed party and was suitably distracted by that too XD but I've just cracked out DA:A again and now eager to get Elissa to bloody Amaranthine already XD_

_Reviews, faves and adds are all greatly appreciated._

**Chapter Ten: Denerim II**

When Elissa arrived at the palace, Cauthrien herself escorted Elissa to Anora's study. "Your fellow Warden is with the Queen," she said, straight to the point as ever. "And wouldn't leave, despite my requests for him to do otherwise."

"Ah," Elissa said sheepishly. "Yes, that would be my fault – I told him to stay."

"The Queen has warmed to him," Cauthrien admitted. "He is... quite charming."

Elissa laughed. "That's Darrian. Is my brother still with them?"

"Yes, I believe he is." Cauthrien hesitated as they rounded the corner before speaking again. "I must thank you, Warden, for your bravery today. I'm ashamed to admit that my failure put the Queen's life at risk."

Elissa shook her head. "Cauthrien, you cannot be expected to know everything. The only blame here lies with whichever traitor in the guard let those five inside."

"But -,"

"There was no harm done," Elissa interjected. "Only the enemy sustained casualties, and some of my friends are out looking for information."

"Erlina is doing the same," Cauthrien said. "You should get a healer to look at that," she added as Elissa lifted her makeshift bandage to check on the wound.

"No need," Elissa said. "It's clean – the tip wasn't poisoned which was mildly surprising. It looks worse than it feels, and no doubt Darrian will corner me with a needle and thread for some stitches shortly."

They arrived at the Queen's study and Cauthrien knocked on the door. The door opened a crack and Darrian peered out. "Oh," he said, disappointed and letting the door swing open. "It's you."

"Maker's breath, Darrian, I don't know about you but I've had enough of assassins today," Elissa said as Cauthrien shut and bolted the door behind them.

"Well, you were unarmed and in unarmoured so I doubt you appreciated the excitement." He frowned as he spotted her holding the blood-spattered wad of fabric and pointed to one of the sofas. "Sit," he ordered, "and let me see that."

Elissa ignored him and instead turned to Anora, sat behind her desk, and her brother who was sat on a chair in front of it. She bowed to the Queen and then to her brother, Anora looking serious and her brother looking worried.

"Warden," Anora said. "Please sit down and let your second tend to that wound, at least until a healer arrives."

"No need for a healer," Elissa said, looking at the tear in her shoulder. "It's just a flesh wound. Some stitches and it'll be as right as rain in no time."

"But the queen said _sit_," Darrian said, pushing Elissa down onto the sofa. "So _sit_." He set about tending the wound in her shoulder with poultices and salves while Elissa delivered a report to the Queen.

"The assassin was a rogue Warden," Elissa explained. "That's how I knew he was there – Wardens can sense darkspawn and each other. I can't explain why," she added, seeing Fergus open his mouth to demand an explanation, "for the usual reasons. Just accept that it is how it is."

"What do you mean by "rogue" Warden?" the Queen asked.

"Not all Wardens are enlisted via means of tournaments and demonstrations of skill – some are conscripted from prisons, saved from death sentences and the like. We will do anything to defeat the darkspawn and if someone has skill, no matter how ill-used, we will make effort to exploit it."

"You did not have this attitude when dealing with my father," Anora remarked quietly.

Elissa closed her eyes. "No. I did not. I allowed personal preference mar my judgement and I will forever regret it. Regardless, we still defeated the Blight and suffice to say I have learned much while travelling."

"You are not the only one to have made mistakes, Elissa," Anora said. "And do not misunderstand – I do not blame you for my father's death. You did what you thought was best for Ferelden and still managed to save us from the Blight." Anora cleared her throat and continued. "We digress, however – you were explaining about this rogue Warden?"

"Ah, yes – well it would appear that this particular conscript was a rather skilled assassin from Nevarra," Elissa said. "But his conscription the night before he was due to hang did not go down well. Senior Warden Emiren informed me that the assassin had friends standing by to rescue him – a rescue attempt which was thwarted when he was put through the Joining."

"Where is the assassin now?" Anora asked.

"Dead," Elissa said bluntly. "Not by my hand, I may add. The Warden contingent from the Free Marches sent to hunt him saw fit to dispatch him before I could question him."

"Why?"

"The security of the Order," Elissa grumbled. "Fools. As if I had any intention of letting anyone but myself or Darrian question him."

"So what happens now?" Fergus asked. "The assassin was merely a tool in some grander scheme. What should we do?"

There was another knock at the door and Cauthrien went to answer it. "Your Majesty," she said to Anora, "the Warden's companions are here – the elf and the bard."

"They've been tracing some information," Elissa said. "May they come in?"

"Of course," Anora answered. "Let them in, Cauthrien."

Zevran and Leliana swept inside, both in their armour. Leliana sat Elissa's side and immediately began fussing over her wound while Zevran gave her an appraising look.

"Poisoned?" he asked. Elissa shook her head.

"It was clean. Strange I know."

"Not all assassins deal in poisons," Leliana remarked. "He clearly thought it was going to be the one shot and then sneak out amidst the resulting commotion."

"Then why the large team?" Zevran said.

"To distract any guards during the escape?" Darrian guessed. "Who knows – and it's not like we can ask any now that they're all stains on the Landsmeet floor."

"_Darrian_," Elissa said with a sigh.

"What?"

"Some tact, please."

"Sorry."

"Well, I found the leak," Leliana said with a sigh. "But I don't think it will be as simple as hanging him I'm afraid."

"Why not?"

"He was forced to do it," she said with a sigh. "The assassins took his family and held them hostage – his wife and three little girls. They're safe now, the city guard found them and rescued them, but still..."

"Duress is no defence for treason," Cauthrien said stubbornly. "Just as it is no defence for murder."

"Unfortunately, Cauthrien is right," Fergus admitted with a sigh.

Elissa pressed her fingertips of each hand together and rested them against her lips. "There is, perhaps, a way around that."

"A way around what, Warden?" Cauthrien said coolly. "A traitor is a traitor and should be punished accordingly. We cannot be seen to be lenient or forgiving."

"Leniency? No," Elissa continued, "you are quite right, that isn't allowable. But mercy? Mercy will gain the popularity and respect of many."

"Mercy will be interpreted as weakness," Cauthrien insisted.

"No," Anora said. "Mercy for a man protecting his family is not a weakness. Mercy for a man acting of free will, for his own life or for coin, that is weakness and a waste. This... may be workable. However the guard in question shall be placed under surveillance and not allowed to leave Denerim until this matter is resolved."

"A fine compromise, Your Majesty," Leliana said with a relieved smile.

"We still need to find the source of this attack," Fergus said. "Which will be tricky since all the attackers are dead."

"We know he was from Nevarra," Elissa said. "And recruited in the Free Marches. I will attempt to prise some more information out of the visiting Wardens, but I wouldn't expect any more from that quarter."

"I have an old friend who wrote to me from Nevarra last," Leliana said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "He is still very much part of the game... he will no doubt have some contacts. I could write to him, if you like?"

"Such information shouldn't be committed to paper," Cauthrien said.

"No, but we have an old code," Leliana said with a smile. "There is only the two of us alive now who know it," she added a little sadly.

"The more information, the better," Elissa said with a warm smile, putting a comforting hand on Leliana's arm.

"As for the Free Marches, I do have some favours I could call in," Zevran said. "It would need to be done in person, however – I don't suppose you fancy a trip to Kirkwall, Elissa?"

"Alas, I cannot," Elissa said. She rubbed her temple with her free hand and sighed. "I have agreed to be the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. I leave for Amaranthine next week."

Zevran raised an eyebrow. "Yet you don't sound as enthused about that as you probably should," he said.

Elissa gave a small dry laugh. "Oh, I suppose I'll get used to the idea in time. I just don't particularly look forward to wresting command from the current officer. I doubt Weisshaupt has been very open or clear about the issue."

"While you might not be so pleased, I can assure you from my point of view this is fantastic news," Anora said. "The arling of Amaranthine was bequeathed to the Wardens in lieu of ordinary tithes – and the Orlesians haven't exactly been warmly welcomed by the freeholders. Having yourself as Arlessa will be most beneficial."

"Wait – what?" Elissa spluttered.

"Technically acting-Arlessa," Fergus supplied, "since the title isn't a hereditary noble title, it's an honourary one. Nevertheless you will be representing your freeholders at Landsmeets and so on... something which the seneschal has been doing in recent years since the Orlesian commander can't fathom our political system."

"Can't the seneschal keep doing it?" Elissa said.

"Why, Elissa," Darrian said with a grin. "Is that a whine I hear?"

"No," Elissa countered. "I just feel I will have enough on my plate without attempting to fathom politics as well."

"As much as I would like to grant you leave to abstain from Landsmeets, you know that is not my decision," Anora said, "and the lords and ladies are unlikely to grant such a license. You will be expected to show willing and put in appearances at the Landsmeet. The only reason the current acting-Arl has got away with it is because he is Orlesian and no one knows nor cares to know who he is. You, however, are a different story."

Elissa made a grumbling noise and sighed. "Fine. I need to send a missive to Amaranthine to let them know to expect me. I doubt Weisshaupt has been particularly forthcoming with information for the Wardens stationed there. An- Your Majesty," Elissa corrected herself quickly, "would I be permitted to use one of your runners?"

"Save the Crown's servants," Darrian stepped in before Anora could reply. "I'll go."

"But your family..."

"Will still be in Denerim," he said. "Besides, I'll be faster than any runner out there, and I won't feel the need to peek at what you've written."

"With all due respect, Warden," Cauthrien said icily, "the messengers of the Crown are completely trustworthy. I would ask that you not insult their professionalism with insinuating remarks."

"No, Darrian is right," Elissa said with a sigh. "While I don't doubt that your runners are more than faithful with matters of the Crown, the lure of Warden secrets may be too strong to resist. And there are always those with more than enough coin willing to buy such information. Their loyalty to the Crown is unquestionable but they owe no such loyalty to the Wardens."

"I'll leave in the morning then," Darrian said, stretching.

"Take Madoc with you," Elissa instructed.

"Why?"

"Because you're going to be stuck in a castle for a week with a bunch of Orlesians - you're going to need _someone_ to talk to."

x.x.x

Hours later, Elissa was lounging on her bed in her underwear, scowling at her open wardrobe.

She _had_ a dress picked out for the evening, but she didn't really want to turn her bandaged injury into an accessory. The wide sweetheart neckline of her favourite Highever green dress was very flattering, stretching from shoulder to shoulder but would showcase her bandages as much as her neck and chest.

However, the other dress she had with her, while sporting a more closed neckline which would hide her injury, was Cousland blue trimmed with silver. By some unhappy coincidence, the heraldry of the Grey Wardens was also blue and silver. No doubt the news of her appointment would be whispering through the palace (because after all this place had ears wherever you went) which meant that the blue had a potential to send a mixed political message. While she intended to be seen as a Cousland, others might draw their own conclusions.

Elissa sighed. She wasn't sure why this appointment made her _uneasy_. Part of her attributed it to the usual melancholy one felt when a holiday came to an end, but the other (more paranoid) side of her couldn't help but feel something bad was going to land right into her lap.

_And I doubt the current Commander is going to be best pleased about his demotion..._ she thought with another sigh.

Standing up suddenly, Elissa wrenched the blue dress from its hanger and threw it over her head. Sod the politics – people could think what they like. Better a mixed political message over the colour of her dress than the fools thinking she wanted to show off an injury won while defending the Queen.

x.x.x

Elissa's memory of the ball was a bit patchy. She was initially annoyed (formal functions had never been a particular favourite of hers) but then, after some coaxing by Leliana and Darrian, became resolved to enjoy the evening. It was a celebration after all, and it was somewhat heart-warming to see others toasting King Alistair and his victory over the Archdemon (even if it was a blatant display of politics in action).

The mention of his name no longer paralysed Elissa. Instead of a lance of grief there was a dull ache of loss followed by some fond and frivolous memory, usually involving cheese or some of his questionable humour. She sighed to herself and relieved one of the passing servants of a glass of wine – the first of many that night. Hence the patchy memory.

She spoke to some of the nobles but avoided most of the others. She remembered helping Fergus escape with Alfstanna (how, she couldn't quite recall, but she presumed it was successful since she remembers being jealous of her brother for the rest of the night for managing it.)

She noticed that Cauthrien was hovering closer to and more obviously around Anora than usual (as would Elissa if she had a similar position) and also that Erlina was the only servant to wait on the Queen through the whole night. Elissa had her suspicions about Erlina and her background for some time, but since she only ever seemed to act in Anora's best interests there was no point worrying about the past.

Oswyn, Bann Sighard's son, was one of the few nobles she voluntarily spoke to, sporting a rather fine cane. Apparently the damage to one knee wasn't completely repairable and while he could walk fine without the cane he couldn't stand for long periods without some support. Elissa had spoken to him for some time (he apologised for his rudeness when they met in Howe's dungeon – a rudeness she had already forgiven him for, given his circumstances) and he had given her the details of a skilled craftsman who specialised in canes for the more active gentleman (after they tactfully discussed Rory having gone through similar trials). "My cane with its hidden blade is not here, for obvious reasons," Oswyn said with a sheepish grin, "but it comes in handy on some of the roads near Dragon's Peak."

Then there was dancing and drinking... mainly drinking if she was completely honest, since she was never really a one for dancing. She danced with her cousin Leonas after he rescued her from the attention of some fawning twit of a boy whose name she couldn't recall. He congratulated her on her commission as he stepped with her across the floor, and said that her parents would have been proud. Thankfully she wasn't so drunk or she may have cried on him in front of everyone. He also invited her to South Reach once she had sorted out "those Orlesian twerps in Amaranthine" – apparently some of his newer knights were quite promising fighters.

She remembered dancing with Leliana (twice; both of them giggling at the scandalised reactions of some of the nobles), Darrian and Zevran (again provoking some shocked reactions and her being glared at by Isolde at intervals) and Teagan – several times, in fact (again provoking glares from Isolde). Which somehow had brought her to here...

They were in the Highever estate and the corridors were moonlit and empty. She was pressed against the wall and its respective tapestry, her hands around Teagan's neck while his were around her waist as he kissed her. She couldn't remember exactly how or when (though presumably it was some point near the end of the ball between their last dance and however they got home) their mutual respect and fondness for each other evolved into this but – _Maker's breath_, as long as he kept using his tongue like that she really didn't care.

It had been so long since someone had touched her like this, so every movement of Teagan's fingers was like lightning across her skin. Although she was drunk on the sensation (and from the alcohol) she retained enough sense to be aware of their surroundings and endeavoured to keep her noises (her embarrassingly desperate noises) to a minimum.

When Teagan stopped and took a step back away from her, however, she couldn't halt the disappointed whine that escaped her. "Why...?"

"You are rather drunk," he commented, his chest heaving with his deep breaths as he tried to reign in his desire. "And this is... most improper."

"Sod propriety."

Teagan let out a bark of laughter before quickly putting a hand over his mouth to stifle the rest – it wouldn't do for them to wake anyone after all.

"I'm serious," Elissa asserted, taking a step forward and closing the gap between them, pressing her body against his again. She leant in and spoke into his ear, her lips brushing against his skin as she spoke. "Stay with me tonight."

Teagan took a shuddering breath. "You're making it very difficult to resist..."

"Then don't," Elissa said cheekily, taking his statement as consent and grasping his hand, leading him down the corridor.

x.x.x

Elissa was roused from sleep by gentle lips on her shoulder blade. She was sprawled on her front, her arms hugging the pillow underneath her head, her hair loose down one side of her back. She stretched her legs and back contentedly and relaxed, not bothering to open her eyes. She didn't have anywhere to be after all.

The owner of the lips, sensing she was awake, became more insistent, moving up to her neck and ears to tease there, his hands skimming down her sides over the ridges of scars that were dotted about.

Elissa rolled onto her back and sighed. Daylight lit the room, filtered through the pale muslin curtains that covered the balcony windows.

"Morning," she said to Teagan sleepily.

"Morning," Teagan said in reply with a smile, gently kissing her lips.

Elissa hummed pleasantly as she stretched again, reaching up to rub her eyes as Teagan continued to gently drag her lips across her skin. She felt a welcome heat beginning to pool in her belly and was about to hurry the Bann along when she felt a familiar, not as welcome tingle under her skin.

"What's wrong?" Teagan asked worriedly when Elissa evaded his lips, jumped out of the bed and scrambled for a dressing gown.

"Darrian," she said by way of explanation, tugging her leather boots over her feet. "On his way here... over the _roofs_ no less. Show boater. I'll be back in just a second." Elissa headed for the balcony window, grabbing a letter from the desk on the way.

She just shut the door behind her when Darrian hopped down from the eaves. "Awww," he said in disappointment. "I wanted to surprise yo- well, well, well," he leered, looking Elissa up and down, his eyes drawn to a suspicious mark on her neck. "We did have fun last night, didn't we?"

Elissa flushed and ignored his question, getting straight to business. "The road to Amaranthine should be relatively clear – Pilgrim's Path is the main one used by merchants and traders. There may be the odd bandit band around but there should be militia around too. The Wending Woods is still used by the Dalish, so keep your head down and remain polite if you see them. I will see you in next week," she said, handing Darrian her letter. "In short - stay on the roads and try and avoid everyone until you reach the keep."

"Elissa," Darrian said, rolling his eyes. "Vigil's Keep is barely a day away. I'll be fine."

"Don't get cocky."

"Alright, alright," Darrian said with a wave of his hand. "So..." he started, trying to look into Elissa's room. "Who is he?"

"Darrian!"

"Aw, what! Come on, you know who I'm sleeping with."

"Only because you're both shamefully obvious about it."

"And obviously unashamed about the whole thing," Darrian said with a smirk. "Fine, if you won't tell me who he is, you can at least tell me _how_ he is."

"He's well, I'll be sure to pass on your concern."

"_Elissaaaaa._"

Elissa grinned and stepped forward to whisper in Darrian's ear. "He's well enough that I want you to sod off so I can get on with round two."

"Well far be it for me to ever _dream_ of cock-blocking you, dear lady."

Elissa couldn't stop her laughter. "Darrian Tabris, _you_ are downright awful. Now get lost. I'll see you in a week."

"Have fu~un!" he said over his shoulder in a singsong voice as he blended into shadow and hopped over the balcony edge to climb down the vine.

Elissa sighed and shook her head as she slipped back into her room, locking the balcony window behind her and making sure the curtains were closed. Teagan was reclined on the bed, waiting with a small smile on his face.

"Your second is an interesting young man," Teagan said. Elissa snorted.

"That's the tactful way to put it. Anyway," she said, shedding her boots and dressing gown as she walked towards the bed, "I've got yet more meetings with Anora this afternoon but nothing this morning. Frankly, I can think of _much_ better things to be doing with it than talking."

x.x.x.x.x

_Ahahahaha rushed end is rushed because I got sick of trying to work out how to wrap it up (no joke, that's the main reason this chapter's been unfinished forever *headdesk*)_

_Amaranthine next :3 a chapter which has been lying 90% finished for months waiting for Denerim to get out of my brain._

_Hope you're all well (and as psyched for DA2 as I am :D)_

_All the best_

_~paa x_


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